bGIVE  me  LIBliRl  V  OR  GJVE  A\E  DEATH''/ 


MHBWwrmitt^attmattMMaMatttttmt 


STEPHEN  B.  WEEKS 

CLASS  OF  1886;  PH.D.  THE  JOHNS  HOPKINS  UNIVERSITY 

OF  THE 

UMVERsmr  OF  mwm  cawdmna 

TIE  WEEKS  COILILECTIKDN 


CAROONMM 


^ 


C   ^\3_  H  -LSu 


This  book  must  not 
be  token  from  the 
Library  buifding. 


I 


Form  No.  471 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY. 

l2rao.     Cloth,  handsomely   bound.       Price,  each,  postpaid,  50  cents. 

PAUL  REVERE  and  the  Boys  of  Liberty.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY  or  The  Minute  Men  of  Maasachusetts. 

By  John  De  Morgan. 
FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.  A  Story  of  the  Siege  of  Boston.  By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH  or  The  Boys   of  Liberty  at  the  Battle  of 

Long  Island.     By  John  De  Morgan. 
THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA  or  Ethan  Allen  and  His  Green  Mountain 

Boys.     By  John  De  Morgan. 
ON  TO  QUEBEC  or  With  Montgomery  in  Canada.     By  John  De  Morgan. 
FIGHTING  HAL  or  From  Fort  Necessity  to  Quebec.     By  John  De  Morgan. 
MARION  AND  HIS   MEN  or  The  Swamp  Fox  of  Carolina.    By  John  De 
/'  Morgan. 

'^       THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR  or  Washington's  First  Triumph.     By  John 

De  Morgan. 
THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN  or  With  Washington  in  the  Ohio  Valley. 

By  John  De  Morgan. 
THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY   BEE  or  A  Boy's  Adventure  in  the  War 

of  i8i3.     By  John  De  Morgan. 
THE  TORY  PLOT  o-  Saving  Washington's  Life.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 
IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE  or  Serving  under  Old  Put.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 
WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY  or  Outwitting   General  Howe.    By  T.  C. 

Harbaugh. 
UNDER    GREENE'S   BANNER   or  The  Boy  Heroes  of  1781.      By  T.  C 

Harbaugh. 
FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE  or  On  to  Saratoga.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 
CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE   MEN    or  The  Concord  Boys  of  1775.    By 

Harrie  Ir\'ing  Hancock. 
THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE  or  The  Young  Guardsman  and  The  French 

Spies.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE    QUAKER    SPY,    A  Tale  of  the    Revolutionary    War.      By    Lieut. 

Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM  or  The  Birth  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes.    By 

Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL  or  The  Captain  of  the  Young  Guards- 
men.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY  or  The  Young  Guardsman.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN  or  The  Young   Guardsman   at  Louisbourg.     By   Lieut. 

Lounsberry. 

THE    YOUNG    PATRIOT    or  The  Young    Guardsmen   at   FOrt    William 
Henry.     By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

••OLD  rt  r"  THE  PATRIOT  or   Fighting   for   Home  and  Country.    By 

Fre«»- rick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE  or  Washington's    Boy  Scouts.    By  Commander 

Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER  or  The  Fall  of  Ticonderoga.    By  Capt.  Frank 
Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES,    The  Hero  of  the  Colonial   Navy.    By  Frank 

Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE  or  The  Glories  of  Our  Infant 

Navy.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE    ESSEX   or  Making   the  Stars  and   Stripes  Re- 
spected.   By  Frank  Sheridan. 


UNDER  GREENE'S 
BANNER 


OR 


THE  BOY  HEROES  OF   1781 


BY 

T.   C.    HARBAUGH 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  In  Buff  and  Blue,"  "  The  Tory  Plot,"   "  Washington's 

Young  Spy,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID    McKAY,     PUBLISHER 
610  South  Washington  Square 


Copyright,  1904 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


Under  Green's  Banner 


o 


UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

CAPT.     SAMSON     MEETS     HIS     MATCH. 

"What  would  I  do  if  I  had  the  power,  eh?  There 
wouldn't  be  a  live  rebel  in  the  Carolinas.  I'd  make 
the  trees  bear  the  strangest  fruit  they  ever  bore. 
King  George  has  been  too  lenient  with  his  rebellious 
subjects.  They  deserve  death,  every  mother's  son 
of  them !  I  wish  he  would  give  me  power  to  chas- 
tise them." 

'T'm  afraid  you'd  need  a  larger  army  than  Lord 
Cornwallis  has." 

"What's  that,  boy?    You're  one  of  'em,  I  suppose." 

"Just  as  you  please,  Capt.  Samson." 

Capt.  Samson,  who  was  known  as  one  of  the  Tory 
leaders  of  the  Carolinas,  a  big,  brutal-looking  man,  six 
feet  in  his  heavy  boots,  which  were  heavily  slashed 
with  mud,  threw  a  look  of  withering  hatred  and  scorn 
at  the  youthful  speaker.  It  was  seldom  anyone 
deigned  to  cross  him,  and  he  felt  the  stroke. 

"Why    don't    you    take    service    under    your    Gen. 


6  Capt.   Samson    Meets    His  Match. 

Greene,  who  runs  away  from  Lord  Cornwallis  like  a 
rabbit  from  a  hound?  You're  old  enough  to  hang,  by 
George  !  you  are  !" 

There  was  no  immediate  response  to  this  savage 
taunt. 

The  youth,  who  was  operating  the  pole  of  a  black- 
smith's bellows  in  a  little  smithy  on  Rocky  Creek  in 
North  Carolina,  a  stream  that  ran  between  the  upper 
Peedee  and  the  Catawba,  bent  to  his  work,  but  he  did 
not  take  his  eye  from  Capt.  Samson. 

*T  don't  know  but  what  I  may,"  he  said  at  last. 

"The  sooner  you  go  the  better.  We'll  have  rope 
enough  left  when  it's  needed  for  you." 

The  little  group  in  the  smithy  looked  at  one  an- 
other and  feared  for  Rodney  Black,  the  boy.  They 
admonished  him  with  their  looks  to  curb  his  tongue 
while  arguing  with  Capt.  Samson,  but  he  did  not  seem 
to  fear  the  bitter  partisan. 

Old  Jackson,  the  blacksmith,  continued  to  beat  out 
the  horseshoe  on  the  anvil,  bending  to  his  work  with 
zeal,  for  he  feared  the  Tory  legion  led  by  Capt. 
Samson. 

Moreover,  he  was  old,  and  had  a  family  to  support, 
though  it  was  known  that  he  was  a  rebel  at  heart 
and  had  performed  some  good  work  for  the  cause  in 
the  making  of  sabers  for  Marion  and  his  men,  who 
averred  that  better  weapons  were  never  put  into  the 
hands  of  the  defenders  of  freedom. 


Capt.  Samson    Meets    His   Match.  7 

The  shoe  was  for  the  Tory's  horse,  which  stood 
champing  his  bit  at  the  door  under  a  large  tree.  The 
home  of  the  blacksmith  stood  near  the  shop,  and 
standing  in  the  doorway  from  which  she  could  hear  the 
voices  was  Jackson's  niece,  a  fair  young  girl  of  nine- 
teen, the  belle  of  the  district,  and  one  whose  heart 
was  with  Rodney,  the  boy  apprentice. 

She  recognized  Capt.  Samson's  vociferous  tones,  for 
she  had  heard  his  invectives  on  other  occasions,  and 
she  longed  for  the  time  when  the  big  fellow  should 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Marion  or  Hugar. 

It  was  a  long  day  when  the  Tory  leader  dropped 
a  quarrel  of  his  own  making. 

''Drop  your  work  and  go  to  Greene !"  he  snapped, 
returning  to  the  altercation  with  Rodney.  "By  the 
way,  I  like  to  slap  insolent  little  rebels." 

He  advanced  across  the  dirt  floor  of  the  shop,  and 
his   eyes   fairly   blazed. 

Rodney  watched  him  closely,  and  worked  the  bel- 
lows. 

He  was  a  stout  built  boy  of  sixteen,  and  his  muscles, 
owing  to  his  occupation,  had  become  as  steel. 

**You  had  better  not,"  his  eyes  said. 

"I  don't  take  Insolence.  I  wouldn't  If  It  cam.e  from 
the  rebel  Washington !"  continued  the  Tory. 

By  this  time  he  was  face  to  face  with  the  young 
partisan.    His  great  hand,  which  had  helped  more  than 


<<T'1 


8  Capt.  Samson    Meets    His   Match. 

one  patriot  into  eternity,  was  lifted  in  mid  air  and  his 
face  grew  dark  with  passion. 

Seeing  that  the  man  really  meant  to  carry  out  his 
threat,  Rodney  dropped  the  bellows  pole  and  stepped 
aside.  It  was  a  quick  move  on  his  uart,  and  the  next 
moment  he  stood  erect,  holding  in  hiG  hands  a  hammer 
that  leaned  against  the  anvil  block- 
He  looked  like  a  person  brougn.t  to  bay,  and  his 
tense  muscles  told  that  he  would  defend  his  honor  to 
the  last  extremity. 

"Going  to  show  fight,  eh?"  laughed  the  captain. 
"That's  just  what  I  like!" 

I'll   defend  myself,   as   everyone   should." 
But  you  won't  strike  me  with  that  weapon?" 
That's  for  you  to  find  out." 

Capt.  Samson  seemed  to  retract  his  hastiness,  but  he 
was  not  of  the  kind  to  retreat. 

"Put  it  down !"  he  cried.     "Throw  it  down,  I  say !" 

Rodney  did  not  obey.  That  was  the  last  thing  he  in- 
tended to  do. 

"I'll  give  you  half  a  minute,  and,  if  at  the  end  of  that 
time  you  menace  me  with  that  hammer,  I'll  leave  my 
mark  on  your  face." 

"You  can  try  it,  sir.'* 

"I  can,  eh?  By  George!  I'll  accept  the  challenge, 
so  here  goes !" 

With  this  he  executed  a  sudden  movement  forward 
?.nd  his  arm  shot  out  toward  the.  patriot  boy. 


«' 


«' 


Capt.  Sa.jiaon    Meets    His   Match.  9 

It  would  have  delivered  a  terrible  blow,  for  the 
blood  of  the  brute  was  at  fever  heat,  but  at  that  mo- 
ment the  hammer  on  the  long  handle  was  thrown  for- 
ward and,  beating  dov/n  the  captain's  arm,  struck  him 
on  the  head. 

With  a  half  stifled  cry  the  Tory  reeled  away  and 
dropped  to  the  ground,  almost  under  his  horse's  feet. 

The  few  spectators  stood  appalled. 

Still  holding  his  novel  weapon  in  his  hands,  Rod- 
ney looked  at  his  fallen  foe  and  then  glanced  round 
the  shop. 

He  knew  that  the  lookers-on  were,  for  the  most  part, 
with  him. 

Capt.  Samson  bled  profusely,  for  the  slanting  blow 
had  cut  through  the  scalp,  and  when  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  staggered  to  his  feet  he  had  a  dazed  look. 

Rodney  had  not  moved  from  his  tracks. 

"Where's  the  young  rebel?"  cried  the  giant. 

"Here !" 

Capt.  Samson  started  forward,  but  the  hammer 
shot  into  the  air  again,  the  hands  of  the  boy  clutch- 
ing the  handle  with  the  determination  of  fate. 

All  expected  to  see  the  Tory  draw  one  of  the  pis- 
tols in  his  leathern  belt,  but  his  hand  did  not  reach 
in  that  direction. 

He  seemed  to  take  another  and  wiser  view  of  the 
situation,  for  he  grated  his  yellow  teeth  and  said 
nothing. 


lo         Capt.  Samson    Meets    His   Match. 

Old  Jackson,  whose  work  had  been  interrupted  by 
the  scene  just  described,  resumed  it,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes he  had  fitted  the  shoe  to  the  animal's  foot. 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  finish  the  job,  and  he 
turned  to  Capt.  Samson  to  announce  that  the  job  was 
done.  , 

Without  so  much  as  offering  a  farthing  in  pay  the 
Tory  leader  mounted  the  animal  and  gathered  up  the 
lines. 

''We'll  settle  this  another  time !"  he  cried,  hoarse 
with  rage,  as  he  singled  out  Rodney  Black.  "I'll  not 
forget  that  blow,  you  young  reb^l  imp.  I'll  have  the 
pleasure  of  stringing  you  up  to  a  limb  before  long, 
and  woe  to  the  man  who  cuts  you  down !" 

A  smile  of  fearlessness  was  the  boy's  reply. 

'*We  are  going  to  drive  Greene  into  the  sea  or 
catch  his  whole  rabble !"  he  went  on,  laughing  bois- 
terously.   'We've  got  him  in  a  trap  now " 

"He  seems  to  get  out  of  your  traps  with  ease," 
grinned  Rodney,  for  he  recalled  how  Greene  had 
slipped  through  the  fingers  of  Comwallis  ever  since 
Greene  superseded  Gen.  Gates  in  command  of  the 
American  army  in  the  South. 

"But  he's  in  the  last  trap,  confound  him  !"  roared 
Samson.  "We've  got  him  on  the  hip  now.  And 
there'll  be  some  tall  hanging  when  we  get  him." 

"You  catch  your  hares  before  you  skin  them." 

"What's  that,  you  little  demon?" 


Capt.   Samson    Meets    His   Match.         ii 

"I  say  you  catch  your  hares  before  you  skin  them/' 
repeated  Rodney. 

Capt.  Samson  threw  one  leg  over  the  saddle  as  if 
about  to  dismount. 

Rodney's  hands  went  toward  the  hammer  again. 

"Never  mind !     I'll  see  you  later." 

"I  hope  so." 

With  this  the  Tory  captain  spoke  to  his  horse  and 
the  animal,  as  if  eager  to  get  away,  bounded  forward 
and  carried  his  rider  under  the  trees  that  lined  the 
road  in  front  of  the  smithy. 

Rodney  looked  after  his  foe  with  blazing  eyes,  but 
was  silent. 

''You've  got  yourself  in  trouble,  boy,"  said  one 
of  the  men ;  **for  Capt.  Samson  never  forgets  any- 
thing." 

"I'm   sure  he   won't   forget  what  the   hammer  did 


very   soon." 


"You've  made  an  inveterate  foe." 

"Yes ;  of  the  meanest  man  in  the  Carolinas,"  re- 
marked another  man. 

"Very  well,  if  it  is  to  be  war  between  us,  war  let  it 
be,"  answered  Rodney. 

"You'll  see  him  again." 

"Truly,  I  hope  so." 

"Look  out  if  you  do,  for  that  man  has  no  heart  and 


no  conscience." 


Meanwhile,  old  Jackson,  the  blacksmith,  had  said 


12         Capt.  Samson    Meets    His   Match. 

but  little.  He  went  about  his  work,  while  Rodney 
turned  again  to  the  bellows. 

One  by  one  the  spectators  went  home,  until  Jackson 
and  his  apprentice  were  the  sole  occupants  of  the 
little  shop. 

The  afternoon  was  closing  fast,  and  the  shadows  of 
the  trees  were  long. 

Night  would  soon  come  again,  and  the  partisans  of 
the  South  would  sally  forth  on  their  wild  forays. 

It  was  the  seventh  year  of  the  war  for  freedom. 
Washington,  confiding  much  in  Greene,  the  "fighting 
Quaker  of  the  Revolution,"  had  intrusted  the  cam- 
paigns  in  the  South  to  him.  And  well  did  he  select 
his  man. 

Gen.  Nathaniel  Greene,  born  in  Rhode  Island,  of 
Quaker  parentage,  wgis  the  man  for  the  occasion.  He 
had  seen  service  at  Trenton,  Brandywine,  Monmouth 
and  other  great  battlefields  of  the  Revolution. 

Moreover,  he  worked  with  the  commander-in-chief, 
always  approving  Washington's  plans  and  demonstrat- 
ing that  he  himself  was  great  in  the  art  of  war,  know- 
ino;-  how  to  meet  and  harass  the  enemv  and  how  to 
elude  tne  many  traps  set  for  his  captirre. 

Greene  himself  was  in  early  youth  a  blacksmith, 
and  had  studied  by  the  light  of  the  forge,  filling  his 
mind  with  information  which  in  after  life  stood  him 
in  good  stead. 

Pure  in  morals,  a  brave  patriot,  and  one  of  the  best 


Capt.  Samson    Meets   His   Matcho         13 

known  strategists  of  his  day,  he  was  able  to  cope  with 
such  officers  as  Cornwallis  and  Tarleton. 

He  was  now  retreating  before  the  superior  army 
of  Lord  Cornwallis. 

His  force,  composed  largely  of  militia  from  the 
South,  was  heading  for  Guildford  Courthouse,  where 
he  expected  to  turn  and  give  the  enemy  battle. 

It  was  the  most  masterly  retreat  in  military  annals, 
for  Greene  had  rivers  to  cross  with  the  redcoats 
swarming  behind  him  in  all  the  panoply  of  war,  eager 
and  expectant,  while  the  patriot  army,  half  clothed, 
half  famished,  was  pushing  on,  led  by  their  indefatig- 
able commander,  who  at  no  time  lost  hope. 

"This  is  my  last  day  at  the  forge,"  said  Rodney 
Black,  as  he  threw  down  the  hammer  with  which  he 
had  been  helping  old  Jackson. 

"What's  that,  boy?" 

"I'm  going  to  take  Capt.  Samson*s  advice." 

'You  are,  eh?" 

'Yes ;  I'm  going  to  join  Gen.  Greene,  if  he'll  have 


tf^ 


«■' 


me. 


"When  ?" 

"This  very  night." 

"He'll  take  you,  of  course,"  was  the  answer.  "You're 
5tout  enough  to  cut  a  dragoon  clean  through  to  the 
shoulders.    It'll  be  a  long  ride  alone,  though." 

"Perhaps  I  won't  go  alone." 

"No?" 


i4         Capt.  Samson    Meets    His   Match. 

''Jack  and  I  have  been  thinking  of  this  for  some 
time." 

"Jack " 

"The  Widow  Glenn's  son." 

Old  Jackson  leaned  on  his  hammer,  which  rested 
on  the  anvil,  and  studied  Rodney  for  a  moment. 

**The  cause  needs  young  bloods,"  he  said.  "You 
will  find  two  sabers  in  the  garret.  I  put  my  best  work 
into  'em.  And,"  he  lowered  his  voice,  "if  you  get 
into  a  tussle  with  Capt.  Samson,  cleave  him  to  the  mid- 
dle." 

Rodney  might  have  replied,  but  at  that  moment 
the  sound  of  hoofs  were  heard  and  a  horseman  drew 
rein  in  front  of  the  smithy. 

"Tarleton  is  coming!  Tarleton!  Tarleton!"  he 
shouted.  "God  have  mercy  on  our  souls !"  and  the 
next  moment  he  was  off  like  the  wind. 

It  was  a  cry  that  had  been  heard  before  in  the  war- 
ravished  South,  and  mothers  had  hushed  their  crying 
children  by  the  mention  of  one  name — the  dreaded 
name  of  Col.  Banastre  Tarleton,  the  merciless  leader 
of  the  British  dragoons. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    TRAIL    OF    THE    REDCOATS. 

Rodney  Black  and  old  Jackson  did  not  have  to 
watch  long  to  discern  the  cavalcade  that  came  down 
the  road.  They  were  British,  sure  enough,  and,  more- 
over, they  belonged  to  Tarleton's  Legion. 

Col.  Tarleton,  who  afterward  was  rewarded  for  his 
outrages  on  the  patriots  with  a  major  general's  com- 
mission in  the  service  of  King  George,  did  his  in- 
famous work  well.  He  had  for  his  assistants  a  lot  of 
Tories,  who  were  men  after  his  own  heart,  and  more 
than  one  hearth  did  they  render  desolate  in  the  South 
during  the  Revolution. 

As  the  dragoons  came  nearer  a  verse  from  a  favorite 
song  of  the  day  floated  out  on  the  gathering  shades  of 
night : 

"We're   Tarleton's   men,   ho !   ho !   ho !  ho ! 

Our  life  is  gay  and  free; 

We  hang  the  rebels  as  we  go 

Upon  the  greenwood  tree," 

In  a  little  while  the  troop  came  fully  into  view. 

The  foremost  horseman  was  a  burly  fellow,  with  a 
swagger  in  the  saddle  that  stamped  him  a  braggart  in 
scarlet,  and  his  followers  were  little  better,  at  least 
in  appearance. 


36  The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats. 

They  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  smithy  and,  for- 
tunately, they  did  not  see  the  pair  of  keen  eyes  that 
watched  them  from  its  protecting  shadows. 

In  the  center  of  the  squadron  were  two  steeds  that 
were  not  ridden  by  soldiers. 

One  of  these  was  mounted  by  an  old  man  whose 
hands  were  bound  at  his  back,  while  his  legs  were 
lashed  to  the  sides  of  the  horse. 

The  other  saddle  was  occupied  by  a  young  girl  not 
past  eighteen,  whose  looks  betokened  good  lineage. 
She  was  bare-headed,  and  her  eyes  were  fastened  pity- 
ingly upon  the  old  man  at  her  side. 

Rodney  Black  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation  the  mo- 
ment he  caught  sight  of  the  pair. 

"Look !"  he  cried  to  his  companion,  the  blacksmith. 
"Master  Callaway  and  his  daughter.  Mistress  Alice, 
have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  forayers !" 

'It  seems  true,  boy."  ^ 

They  are  taking  them  toward  the  British  camp; 
but  it  will  be  fortunate  for  them  if  they  are  permit- 
ted to  reach  it  alive.  You  remember  that  last  fall 
three  dragoons  were  killed  on  Master  Callaway's  place, 
and  Tarleton  swore  revenge." 

"Indeed  do  I  recall  that.  Mistress  Alice  is  not 
bound  like  her  father,  but  she  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
miscreants  just  the  same.'* 

"And  doomed  like  him." 

"I  have  fears  of  that." 


«i 


tc 


The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats.  17 


<(/ 


'Col.  Tarleton  swore  at  the  time  to  pay  Master 
Callaway  the  debt  of  blood.  And  now  that  he  is  in 
their  hands  it  will  be  short  shrift  for  him." 

Old  Jackson,  who  evidently  was  thinking  deeply, 
made  no  reply,  but  watched  the  squadron  out  of  sight. 

"Something  must  be  done  for  them !"  cried  Rod- 
ney. ''They  must  not  be  allowed  to  die  at  the  hands 
of  those  rascals." 

"But  how  save  them?" 

"We  must  try,  at  all  events." 

"They  will  be  taken  to  Tarleton,  and  not  even  the 
interposition  of  Lord  Cornwallis  can  rescue  the  cap- 
tives." 

"But  a  trial  shall  be  made,"  and  Rodney  turned 
from  the  forest  forge.  "I  think  I  can  find  Jack, 
and " 

"What  will  two  boys  be  against  the  minions  of  Col. 
Tarleton  ?" 

"Not  much,  perhaps ;  but " 

"If  they  catch  you,  I  fear " 

"Good-by!"  interrupted  the  boy  partisan.  "Mis- 
tress Alice  is  too  young  and  fair  to  suffer  at  the  hands 
of  those  heartless  wretches.     She  must  be  saved." 

Before  old  Jackson  could  reply  Rodney  had 
bounded  from  the  shop  and  was  tearing  toward  the 
house.  «i 

The  old  blacksmith's  niece  met  him  on  the  porch 
and,  startled  by  his  appearance,  caught  his  arm. 


1 8  The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats. 

"Which  way,  Master  Rodney?"  she  asked. 

"The  sabers !  quick,  Miss  Dora !  Your  uncle  said 
they  were  in  the  garret." 

'The  sabers  ?" 

"Yes ;  the  good  ones  he  made  secretly  when  no 
Tories  were  spying  around.     I  need  them !" 

"Why  both?"  queried  the  half-dazed  girl. 

"Explanations  later  on.    Quick !  the  sabers  !" 

Miss  Dora  bolted  into  the  house  and  in  a  minute 
Rodney  saw  her  emerge  with  two  sabers  in  her  hands. 

"Here  they  are,"  she  said,  handing  them  to  the 
young  patriot.  "I  hope  they  will  some  day  give  a 
good  account  of  themselves." 

"They  shall,  and  at  no  distant  day,  either!  Good 
luck  to  you.  Mistress  Dora.    I  am  off !" 

"Surely,  Rodney " 

"Ask  your  uncle,"  broke  in  the  boy,  looking  into 
the  deep  brown  eyes  of  the  Carolina  beauty.  "Good- 
by!" 

The  girl  watched  him  out  of  sight,  and  heard  his 
footfalls  die  away  in  the  dusk. 

It  did  not  take  Rodney  long  to  get  off  of  the  little 
place  owned  by  the  old  blacksmith. 

He  did  not  keep  to  the  road,  but  with  the  keen- 
edged  weapons  clutched  eagerly  in  his  hands,  he  ran 
through  a  little  wood,  then  crossed  a  meadow  and 
brought  up  in  front  of  a  small  house  on  a  slight  knoll. 

Here  he  stopped  and  sent  forth  a  bird  call,  which 


The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats.  19 

was  undoubtedly  a  signal,  for  the  door  of  the  house 
soon  opened  and  a  boy  of  his  own  age  sprang  out. 

"Jack  !'* 

"Rodney !" 

"The  time  has  come!"  said  Rodney.  "You  remem- 
ber our  agreement.     Where  are  the  horses?" 

Jack  Glenn  pointed  to  a  stable  near  by. 

"Come !"  went  on  Rodney.     "No  time  is  to  be  lost." 

"Is  it  for  Greene's  army,  Rodney?" 

"Yes,  yes ;  but  we  have  other  work  to  perform  be- 
fore we  reach  the  general." 

The  two  boys  hastened  to  the  stable,  the  door  of 
which  Jack  unlocked  with  eager  fingers,  and  both  went 
inside. 

It  did  not  take  them  long  to  saddle  two  horses  that 
occupied  the  stalls. 

"Mother  will  know  all  when  she  misses  the  horses," 
said  Jack,  as  he  led  one  of  the  well-limbed  bays  into 
the  waning  light.  "I  told  her  the  other  day  about  our 
compact,  and  she  did  not  dissent.  She  is  for  the 
cause,  would  give  up  her  life  for  Hberty  in  North 
America,  and  she  told  me  that  when  I  went  to  Greene 
to  put  in  some  good  strokes  on  the  right  side." 

Up  to  this  time  Rodney  had  not  acquainted  Jack 
with  the  fight  at  the  forge  between  himself  and  Capt. 
Samson,  nor  had  he  mentioned  the  arrest  of  Master 
Callaway  and  his  daughter. 


<<1 


w 


20  The  Trail  of  the   Redcoats. 

— - — _^ _ < 

This  he  did  a  little  later  on  while  they  rode  along 
the  road  and  Jack  listened  half  bewildered. 

"The  dragoons  cannot  reach  Cornwallis  to-night," 
he  said.    "They  must  camp  somewhere." 

"Perhaps  on  Swift  Fork.  It  is  a  good  camping 
ground,  you  know.  They  will  be  guarded  there  by  the 
lay  of  the  land." 

"That  is  true,  and  there,  perhaps,  they  may  dispose 
of  theii  prisoners." 

T  shudder  to  think  of  it,"  said  Rodney. 

The  wonler  is  that  they  got  the  old  man  without 
a  fight,"  responded  Jack.  "Thomas  Callaway  has 
fighting  blood  in  his  veins,  and  he  could  not  be  taken 
fairly  without  bloodshed." 

"Perhaps  they  played  a  stratagem.  They  may  have 
first  secured  the  person  of  Mistress  Alice  and  after 
that  the  capture  of  her  father  was  not  difficult." 

Jack  thought  a  moment. 

"Don't  you  think  the  hand  of  Red  Dan  is  in  this 
business?"  he  asked. 

"What !  the  hand  of  that  merciless  scapegrace — the 
young  rascal  whom  Mistress  Alice  struck  across  the 
face  with  her  riding  whip  last  summer?" 

"The  same." 

"It  may  be.  He  swore  revenge,  too,  and  since  she 
rejected  his  suit  he  has  asked  for  a  command  under 
Tarleton,   though   he   seldom    fights   as    fair   as    that 


The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats.  21 

leader.     But    I    do   not   remember   seeing   Red   Dan 
among  the  troopers  as  they  rode  by  the  forge." 

*'Of  course  he  may  keep  in  the  background,  though 
the  real  work  of  capture  may  be  his." 

**Woe  to  him  if  he  harms  either  Mistress  Alice  or 
her  father !  But  here  we  are  at  the  creek.  Let  us  see 
if  the  troops  crossed  the  ford.  If  they  have  the 
ground  will  tell." 

The  boys  dismounted  and,  holding  the  bridle  reins 
of  their  horses,  examined  the  soft  fringe  of  the  wind- 
ing creek  in  the  clear  starlight,  which  had  come  on. 

"They  crossed  here !"  suddenly  exclaimed  Rodney. 
"Now  our  way  seems  clear.  They  appear  to  be 
headed  for  the  old  rendezvous  on  Swift  Fork." 

In  another  moment  the  youthful  pursuers  were  on 
the  road  again. 

The  road,  which  wound  across  the  country,  was 
easily  seen,  and  the  boys  galloped  forward  with  high 
hopes.  They  had  secured  the  two  sabers  to  their  per- 
sons, and  in  addition  to  these  weapons  they  each  car- 
ried a  trooper's  pistol,  which  Jack  some  time  before 
had  concealed  in  the  stable  loft — relics  of  the  Cowpens. 

A  ride  of  seven  miles  brought  them  to  the  vicinity 
of  Swift  Fork,  as  they  knew  by  the  change  in  the 
ground,  and  at  last  they  slackened  their  speed.  It 
was  now  time  to  be  cautious,  for  they  did  not  care  to 
run  into  the  detachment  of  forayers.  They  feared 
that  the  British,  if  they  had  made  camp,  would  sur- 


12  The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats. 

round  themselves  with  alert  pickets,  for  the  partisan 
warfare  in  the  South  had  ever  been  one  of  constant 
surprises.  Men  like  Marion,  Huger,  Pickens  and 
Moultrie  were  nightly  swooping  down  upon  British 
camps,  and  woe  to  the  ones  they  founr  nprepared 
for  their  swoop. 

They  would  alight  upon  a  sleeping  camp,  rush 
through  it  like  a  whirlwind,  saber  the  half-dazed 
enemy  and,  before  the  rest  could  recover,  they  would 
be  far  away,  riding  toward  one  of  the  swampy  fast- 
nesses of  the  country,  where  they  would  be  perfectly 
safe. 

Fearful  of  meeting  the  outposts  of  a  camp,  Rodney 
and  Jack  proceeded  now  with  the  utmost  caution. 
Swift  Fork  was  not  a  wide  nor  a  turbulent  stream, 
except  after  a  heavy  rain,  when  it  was  sure  to  over- 
flow its  banks  and  the  adjacent  territory. 

It  flowed  some  distance  between  hills  of  consid- 
erable height,  covered  with  a  growth  of  stunted  pine, 
but  the  old  camping  ground  for  the  different  forces 
was  in  a  hollow  or  low  ground  well  wooded. 

The  British  had  had  considerable  start  of  the  two 
boys,  therefore  they  could  have  reached  the  old  ground 
well  ahead  of  them. 

It  was  possible,  however,  that  they  had  concluded 
to  keep  on  and  rejoin  Cornwallis  and  Tarleton,  with- 
out so  much  as  stopping  for  the  night  on  Swift  Fork. 

Suddenly  Jack  laid  his  hand  on  Rodney's  arm. 


The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats.  23 

"Look  to  the  left,"  he  whispered.  "Fires  over  yon- 
der." 

Rodney  looked  quickly  in  the  direction  designated, 
and  caught  sight  of  what  appeared  to  be  bivouac  fires 
in  the  darkness. 

"We  are  upon  them,  sure  enough !"  he  said. 

They  drew  rein  upon  a  little  rise,  and  for  some  mo- 
ments studied  the  lights  ahead. 

Then  they  proceeded  again,  but  riding  slowly  and 
with  great  caution,  for  their  safety  depended  now 
wholly  upon  that. 

In  their  advance  they  were  well  screened  by  the 
trees  that  stood  in  profusion. 

Between  them  they  could  make  out  half  a  dozen  fires 
that  gave  every  appearance  of  being  camp  fires,  and 
at  last  they  caught  sight  of  men  in  scarlet  uniform 
lounging  on  the  ground  in  the  light. 

Jack  was  for  rushing  forward  while  the  foe  sus- 
pected nothing,  and,  before  he  could  recover,  release 
Thomas  Callaway  and  his  daughter,  but  Rodney  re- 
strained him. 

"Let  us  make  a  careful  survey  of  the  field  first,"  the 
young  blacksmith  replied.  "Let  us  locate  the  prison- 
ers and  then,  if  we  can  rescue  them,  we  will  try  our 
best." 

The  two  boys  rode  forward  again  for  a  closer  view, 
and  got  it. 


24  The  Trail  of  the  Redcoats. 

They  discovered,  sitting  apart  from  the  British,  but 
watched  by  them  just  the  same,  Callaway  and  Alice. 

They  were  within  the  line  of  light,  and  thus  per- 
ceptible to  the  would-be  rescuers. 

The  old  man  leaned  against  a  tree,  and  the  head 
of  his  daughter  reposed  in  his  lap,  her  nut-brown  hair   i 
falling  in  abandon  over  his  limbs. 

It  was  a  sight  calculated  to  stir  into  action  every  drop 
of  blood  that  coursed  through  the  veins  of  the  two 
boy  patriots. 

They  looked  to  the  priming  of  their  pistols,  and  loos- 
ened the  sabers. 

Just  as  Rodney  was  about  to  whisper  something  to 
his  companion  there  was  a  slight  rustle  in  the  leaves 
almost  under  their  feet  and  the  next  sound  they  heard 
startled  them  beyond  description: 

"Surrender!  you  young  rebels!  We've  got  the 
drop  on  you  good  and  hard.  You  are  prisoners  of  the 
king!" 

The  boys  could  not  answer ;  but  they  could  look  and 
see  that  they  were  surrounded  by  at  least  a  dozen  men, 
and  that  as  many  weapons  covered  them. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE     NICK     OF     TIME. 

The  peril  that  menaced  the  boy  partisans  of  the 
Revolution  was  anything  but  pleasant  to  contemplate. 

The  men  who  had  so  suddenly  surrounded  them 
seemed  to  have  risen  from  the  ground. 

That  they  were  British  soldiers  they  saw  at  a  glance, 
despite  the  semi-darkness  that  prevailed,  and  some 
of  the  weapons  which  they  thrust  forward  were  within 
a  few  inches  of  their  faces.  The  first  thought,  of 
course,  was  quiet  submission,  then  almost  as  suddenly 
a  bold,  courageous  stroke  suggested  itself;  but  this 
would  have  magnified  their  danger. 

They  glanced  at  one  another  speechless  in  their  ut- 
ter amazement. 

Had  there  been  a  chance  for  a  bold  dash  they  might 
have  succeeded  in  getting  out  of  their  toils,  for  their 
horses  were  fleet-footed,  and  a  match  for  the  best  in 
Tarleton's  Legion. 

But  they  thought  of  the  other  captives  in  the  British 
camp,  and  wanted  to  render  them  the  best  of  service, 
therefore,  they  held  up  their  hands,  expecting  to  be  led 
to  the  fires  as  prisoners. 

The  weapons  of  the  enemy  were  lowered  a  jot  and 
the  reins  of  their  steeds  seized. 


l6  The  Nick  of  Time. 

Prisoners  of  King  George! 

The  thought  went  through  the  boys  like  an  arrow. 

In  a  short  time  they  had  been  escorted  from  the 
scene  of  their  capture,  but  they  were  not  permitted 
to  come  in  contact  with  the  lights  of  the  bivouac. 

They  were  removed  behind  one  of  the  little  knolls, 
where  they  were  compelled  to  dismount. 

The  soldiers,  rough-looking  fellows,  gathered  round 
them  and  the  leader  leaned  forward  with  a  leer  of  tri- 
umph in  his  eyes. 

"What  brought  you  here,  you  young  rebels?"  he  in- 
quired. 

'Haven't  we  a  right  to  ride  where  we  please?" 

'That  depends.  Two  young  traitors  wearing 
swords  and  pistols  don't  look  much  like  peaceful  peo- 
ple who  love  their  king." 

"You  have  just  called  us  rebels,"  answered  Rodney, 
with  a  smile.  "If  rebels  we  are  we  don't  love  the 
king." 

"By  George !  that's  right.  And,  as  you're  rebels, 
what's  to  hinder  us  from  having  a  quiet  little  rope- 
stretching  right  here?" 

"Nothing,  if  you  don't  mind  disgracing  the  uni- 
forms you  wear." 

The  dragoon  winced. 

"You're  spies !  spies  for  Greene !"  he  said,  accus- 
ingly. 

"We  are  not  spies,"  answered  Rodney,  with  em- 


<<i 


ii' 


The  Nick  of  Time.  27 


phasis,  though  he  feared  the  denial  would  do  them 
no  good. 

*'You  have  stolen  upon  our  camp.  You  don't  deny- 
that,  I  hope?" 

"We  were  near  your  camp ;  but  not  as  spies  I" 

''Come,  captain !"  blurted  out  a  big,  impatient  fel- 
low, with  a  cropped  mustache,  "what's  the  use  wast- 
ing time  with  the  young  rapscallions?  Haven't  we 
spared  too  many  rebel  fledglings  already?  They'll  be 
in  full  feather  ere  long  if  we  let  them  off.  Here's  a 
rope  and  a  good  limb/* 

This  brutal  proposition  seemed  to  take  immensely 
and  immediately  among  the  band. 

"What  was  your  mission?"  demanded  the  leader 
again. 

"It  was  a  fair  one — all's  fair  in  war,  you  know  I'* 
said  Jack. 

"We  don't  think  so.  Washington,  the  high  rebel, 
who  will  some  day  stretch  hemp,  says  the  same,  no 
doubt,  and  yet  he  commissions  men  like  the  Swam^p 
Fox,  who  hangs  people  in  the  dark  of  the  moon  and 
who  is  a  guerrilla  besides." 

This  estimate  of  Gen.  Marion  caused  the  boys  to 
smile,  especially  when  they  compared  him  and  his 
warfare  with  that  sanctioned  by  Cornwallis  and 
Tarleton. 

"String  'em  up,  and  be  quick  about  it!"  exclaimed 


aS  The  Nick  of  Time. 

■  II  ■ 

the  dark-faced  dragoon.  "Here,  throw  the  rope  over 
the  limb  yonder,  and  give  me  one  end  of  it !" 

The  boys  prepared  for  death. 

Was  this  to  be  the  outcome  of  their  first  adventures 
as  partisans  in  the  saddle? 

They  saw  ropes  placed  over  one  of  the  limbs  of 
the  nearest  oak  and  nooses  were  quickly  made  and 
thrown  over  their  heads. 

"Will  you  promise  to  swear  allegiance  to  the  king  if 
we  spare  your  lives?"  asked  the  leader  of  the  band. 

"To  King  George  the  Third?" 

"Certainly ;  there  is  no  other." 

"We  are  patriots." 

"Rebels,  you  mean." 

"We  swear  allegiance  to  no  king.  We  are  for  free- 
dom in  North  America!' 

"String  'em  up,  then!' 

The  hands  of  the  boys  had  been  already  fastened 
behind  their  backs,  and  they  felt  the  merciless  nooses 
tighten  about  their  necks. 

"For  the  last  tim.e,  will  you  become  king's  men?" 

"No  !    Long  live  Gen.  Washington  !" 

The  next  moment  the  boys  were  jerked  from  the 
damip  ground  with  strong  hands  at  the  ropes. 

Their  captors  seemed  fiends  incarnate. 

Not  far  away  slept  Mistress  Alice  in  her  father's 
lap,  oblivious  of  the  terrible  drama  being  enacted  un- 
der the  gloomy  trees. 


r> 


i'> 


The  Nick  of  Time.  29 

But  the  boys'  time  had  not  yet  come. 

As  their  bodies  left  the  ground  they  heard  shots  and 
shouts  and  the  whole  camp  seemed  in  an  uproar. 

The  executioners  paused  in  their  work,  and  looked 
at  one  another. 

"Down  with  the  redcoats !"  rang  in  the  boys'  ears. 
"Strike  and  spare  not,  men  of  CaroHna !" 

The  ropes  slackened  as  suddenly  as  they  had  tight- 
ened, and  Rodney  and  Jack  dropped  to  the  ground. 

Their  ears  rang  with  confused  sounds,  they  heard 
the  shouts  of  combatants  and  saw  their  late  captors 
spring  toward  the  camp  from  which  the  mingled  noises 


came. 


Long  live  the  king!"  rose  on  the  air  as  the  two 
forces  came  together. 

*T>own  with  Tarleton's  minions!  Death  to  every 
Britisher  in  North  America!" 

In  a  moment,  as  it  were,  the  fight  seemed  over. 
The  surprise  was  most  complete.  The  troopers  in 
scarlet  fled  in  dismay  before  the  American  partisans, 
some  of  the  fugitives  passing  so  near  the  breathless 
boys  that  they  might  have  touched  them. 

As  soon  as  they  could,  Rodney  and  Jack  made  their 
way  to  the  late  camp,  where  they  met  thirty-five 
Americans  under  the  leadership  of  one  Gorman,  other- 
wise called  Black  Gorman,  a  bitter  partisan  chief,  al- 
most as  much  dreaded  by  the  British  and  Tories  as 
Marion. 


JO  The  Nick  of  Time. 

Thomas  Callaway  and  his  daughter  were  rejoicing 
over  their  rescue  when  the  young  patriots  came  up. 

"It  was  a  narrow  escape  for  you  and  your  venerable 
father,  Mistress  Alice,"  said  Rodney,  with  a  bow,  as  he 
halted  in  front  of  the  young  girl. 

He  had  seen  her  before,  though  his  acquaintance 
with  her  was  very  Hmited. 

"Indeed  it  was.  It  seems  providential.  I  believe  I 
am  speaking  to  Mr.  Rodney  Black,  the  young  smith 
of  Rocky  Fork." 

"That  is  my  name,  and  this  is  my  friend,  Jack 
Glenn.' 

Jack  doffed  his  hat  cavalierly,  and  paid  his  obeisance 
in  a  manner  that  delighted  the  young  miss. 

"Were  you  with  the  rescuing  party?"  asked  Miss 
AHce. 

"We  intended  to  be  the  rescuing  party,"  smiled 
Rodney,  "but  were  interfered  with.  We  have  to  thank 
Capt.  Gorman  for  his  arrival  in  the  nick  of  time,  for 
we  were  in  a  pretty  tight  place." 

"Not  captives,  I  hope?" 

'Captives,  and  already  noosed." 

What?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Callaway,  who  had  over- 
heard the  last  words.  "You  do  not  mean  to  say  that 
they  intended  to  hang  you?" 

"It  looked  very  much  that  way,"  responded  "^odney; 
"but  here  is  Black  Gorman  himself " 


Hi 


l'^ 


The  Nick  of  Time.  31 


«i 


«' 


The  famous  rebel  had  just  come  up,  and,  seeing  the 
boys,  broke  out  into  a  laugh. 

"How  did  these  young  fish  get  into  our  net,  I 
should  like  to  know?" 

'They  were  captives  like  father  and  I,"  said  the 
young  girl.  "But  until  just  now  I  was  unaware  of 
the  fact." 

"Captives,  eh?    Are  you  rebels,  too?" 
'Rebels  to  the  core !"  exclaimed  Jack. 
'Then    hurrah    for    Washington!"    shouted    Black 
Gorman  at  the  top  of  his  voice.    ''You're  a  hearty  pair, 
upon  my  soul,  and,  methinks,  youVe  agile  and  strong 
enough  to  take  service  under  Black  Gorman." 

"We  were  going  to  Gen.  Greene,"  said  Rodney. 

"Then  to  him  you  shall  go  with  Black  Gorman's 
compliments.  Tell  him  I  send  him  good  reinforce- 
ments, and  that  while  you  two  boys  live  King  George 
will  never  conquer  America." 

"Thank  you,  Capt.  Gorman.  We  shall  be  glad  to 
report  your  victory  to-night." 

It  was  found  that  the  weapons  carried  from  the 
Jackson  home  by  the  two  boys  had  beeen  left  on  the  bat- 
tlefield, and  they  were  soon  in  their  possession  once 
more. 

Three  British  dragoons  had  been  killed  in  Black 
Gorman's  rush  on  the  camp,  and  it  was  thought  that 
at  least  a  dozen  more  had  been  able  to  ride  away  with 
serious  mementoes  of  the  occasion. 


32  The  Nick  of  Time. 

Mounted  once  more  on  their  horses,  Rodney  and 
Jack  prepared  to  ride  to  Greene's  camp. 

"I  wish  you  a  safe  journey,"  said  Mistress  Alice, 
as  she  came  alongside  and  put  up  her  shapely  hand. 
"I  thank  you  just  as  much  as  if  you  and  not  Capt. 
Gorman  had  been  our  rescuers  to-night.  You  were 
willing  to  risk  your  lives  to  save  us.  I  trust  I  shall 
hear  from  both  of  you,  and  I  know  the  reports  will 
be  encouraging." 

"We  shall  see  that  you  hear  nothing  bad  of  us!" 
responded  Rodney,  who  knew  that  he  spoke  for  his 
companion  as  well.  "Under  Greene's  banners  we  hope 
to  render  our  beloved  country  some  service.  Let  us 
hope  that  you  have  seen  the  last  of  the  enemy." 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  it  is  not  likely,"  was  the  answer. 
"Until  these  British  are  driven  out  of  the  Carolinas 
we  are  liable  to  be  troubled  by  them." 

"Do  you  think,  Mistress  Alice,  that  Red  Dan  had 
a  hand  in  this  affair?" 

The  fair  girl  started  and  threw  a  swift  glance  to- 
ward her  father. 

"1  fear  to  answer  your  query  as  it  seems  to  demand," 
she  replied. 

'Very  well,  then,  I  will  not  press  the  matter." 

'He  is  a  despicable  person,"  she  said,  with  rising 
feeling.  "Because  I  rejected  his  advances  he  turns  on 
me  like  a  serpent.  While  he  was  not  among  our  cap- 
tors, I  am  not  ignorant  of  all  things." 


(C 


tC] 


The  Nick  of  Time.  23 

This  was  enough,  and  told  Rodney  all  he  wanted 
to  know. 

''Young  gentlemen,"  said  Thomas  Callaway,  at  this 
juncture,  *'I  hope  you  will  give  a  good  account  of 
yourselves.  You  ought  to  reach  Gen.  Greene  to-mor- 
row some  time,  for  you  have  excellent  anim.als.  Be  on 
the  watch.  You  don't  know  when  some  band  like  the 
one  that  pounced  upon  me  may  give  you  another  turn- 
ing over.  You  will  present  my  compliments  to  Gen. 
Greene,  and  tell  him  that  while  Thomas  Callaway 
lives  one  man  at  least  will  breathe  the  air  of  liberty. 
Say  to  him  that  I  am  still  the  friend  of  Washington, 
still  the  unconquerable  patriot  and  the  hater  of  kings." 

"We  shall  be  pleased  to  deliver  your  m.essage." 

Everything  being  ready  for  their  departure,  the  boys 
looked  at  the  partisans  to  whom  they  owed  their  lives 
and  Black  Gorman  adm.onished  them  to  ride  fast,  but 
with  extreme  caution. 

He  told  them  where  to  find  Greene's  army,  and 
mapped  out  the  shortest  way  to  it,  for  all  of  which  the 
boys  thanked  him. 

Then  after  shaking  hands  once  more  with  the  Cal- 
laway s,  whom  they  were  to  meet  again  under  exciting 
circumiStances,  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  toward 
the  north  and  galloped  oflf. 

"That  was  a  close  call.  Jack,"  said  Rodney,  when 
they  had  left  the  scene  of  their  adventure  behind. 

"Too  close  to  be  comfortable." 


34  The  Nick  of  Time. 

**But  for  the  timely  arrival  of  Black  Gorman  and 
his  band  there  might  have  been  two  young  rebels  less 
in  North  Carolina." 

"And  two  less  swords  for  Greene,  eh?  Did  you 
notice,  Rodney,  how  Mistress  Alice  started  when  you 
spoke  of  Red  Dan?" 

''Yes ;  that  rascal  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  their 
troubles.  He  dared  not  show  his  face  in  the  open,  but 
he  undoubtedly  planned  the  raid  upon  the  manor.  I 
trust  we  will  meet  him  in  the  near  future." 

"We  probably  shall,  if  he  is  brave  enough  to  appear 
on  the  battlefield,  which  I  seriously  doubt." 

"I  would  go  out  of  my  way  to  seek  him.  But  let  us 
first  become  a  part  of  Greene's  command.  We  can 
lay  our  other  plans  after  that." 

All  through  the  night  the  boys  rode  northward,  the 
whole  time  on  the  alert,  and  during  the  forenoon  of 
the  following  day  they  feM  in  with  a  scouting  party 
belonging  to  Col.  William  Washington's  command, 
and  their  hearts  beat  with  joy  and  pride,  for  they 
knew  that  at  last  they  were  under  Greene's  banners. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

FATHER    AND     SON. 

Leaving  Rodney  and  Jack  on  their  way  to  Greene's 
camp,  escorted  by  the  troopers  who  became  so  famous 
during  the  Revolution  under  the  leadership  of  the  gal- 
lant Col.  Washington,  we  will  proceed  to  see  more  of 
another  person  who  has  been  already  mentioned  in  the 
course  of  our  narrative. 

"Red  Dan"  Jeffrys  was  the  son  of  a  wealthy  planter 
of  South  Carolina. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  was  a  wild,  roystering 
blade,  fond  of  sports  of  all  kinds.  Always  supplied 
with  money  by  his  father,  who  from  the  first  had  been 
a  Tory,  the  scion  of  the  house  of  Jeffrys  had  his  own 
way  in  ever}i:hing. 

He  imbibed  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  his  parent, 
he  praised  King  George  on  every  occasion,  and  natur- 
ally drew  against  him  the  Whigs  who  opposed  every- 
thing the  ranting  Tories  did. 

On  one  occasion  Marion  swooped  down  upon  the 
JefTrys'  plantation  and  deprived  the  old  Tory  of  some 
good  horses,  saying  that  they  were  just  the  animals  he 
wanted  to  keep  Tarleton  on  the  move,  and  this  event, 
of  course,  only  served  to  embitter  more  than  ever  the 
losers  of  the  steeds. 


^6  Father  and  Son. 

Red  Dan  was  a  tall  and  handsome  young  man.  He 
had  gained  his  well-known  nickname  from  the  color 
of  his  hair,  and  he  thought  that  he  was  supreme  in 
love  affairs  wherever  he  went. 

But  it  had  taken  Alice  Callaway  to  teach  him  a 
lesson  he  never  forgot. 

The  fair  girl,  intensely  loyal  to  the  cause  of  liberty, 
repelled  Dan's  lovemaking  with  emphasis.  He  would 
not  be  put  off,  arguing,  in  his  impulsive  way,  that  he 
would  honor  her  in  becoming  her  husband,  as  if  the 
Jeffrys  blood  was  better  than  that  which  flowed 
through  Callaway  veins. 

This  insinuation  the  Whig  maiden  indignantly  re- 
sented. 

One  day  Red  Dan,  in  pushing  his  suit,  got  Mistress 
Alice's  riding  whip  across  his  white  cheeks,  and  it  stung 
not  only  his  face  but  his  very  soul. 

It  was  the  night  before  the  capture  of  Thomas  Cal- 
laway and  his  daughter  that  Red  Dan  might  have  been 
seen  in  a  deeply  wooded  grove  near  the  banks  of  a  lit- 
tle river. 

He  had  ridden  thither  on  his  spirited  black,  which 
he  had  tethered  to  a  sapling,  and  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  sward,  flecking  bits  of  mud  and  dust  from 
his   leggings. 

Presently  he  spied  some  one  coming  down  the  nar- 
row road  leading  along  the  stream,  and  in  a  short 
time  he  was  looking  up  into  the  face  of  a  dragoon. 


Father  and  Son.  37 

The  soldier  wore  the  insignia  of  a  Ueutenant  on  his 
person,  and  greeted  Dan  with  a  smile. 

The  two  repaired  deeper  into  the  grove,  where 
they  found  a  fallen  tree,  upon  which  they  sat  down. 

"You  understand,"  said  Red  Dan,  getting  quickly 
at  the  matter  nearest  his  heart,  "I  want  the  whole 
thing  done  with  neatness  and  dispatch.  As  for  the  old 
man,  I  don't  care  what  you  do  with  him — it  might  be 
well  to  string  him  up,  for  he  deserves  a  rope — but  the 
girl  is  not  to  be  harmed." 

*T  see.  You  don't  want  the  feathers  of  the  pretty 
bird  ruffled." 

"That's  it.  And  don't  destroy  the  nest,  either.  Cal- 
laway Manor  may  come  into  my  possession  one  of 
these  fine  davs,  and  I  don't  want  it  laid  waste." 

"Do  you  think  the  old  man  will  show  fight?" 

"He's  liable  to  do  that.  There's  fighting  blood  in 
his  veins.  I  believe  his  ancestors  fought  under  Crom- 
well at  Naseby." 

"Then  the  old  eagle  may  shov^  fight." 

"But  you  know  how  to  surprise  him." 

"I  guess  we  can  attend  to  that.  After  we  have  them 
in  our  hands  we  will  m.ake  off  as  rapidly  as  possible." 

"You  had  better,  for  Black  Gorman  and  his  cohorts 
have  been  in  the  vicinitv  lately." 

The  dragoon  was  silent  a  moment,  during  which 
time  Red  Dan  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  with- 
drew it,  filled  with  gold  coins. 


38  Father  and  Son. 

''Here's  half  the  wage,"  he  went  on,  handing  the 
money  to  the  dragoon.  'The  rest  will  come  after  you 
have  carried  out  your  part  of  the  bargain." 

The  soldier  took  the  coins  and  arose. 

"We'll  do  the  thing  up  brown.  Besides,  we've  been 
longing  to  get  ahead  of  the  old  eagle,  who  has  his  nest 
at  Callaway  Manor,  and  we  won't  give  him  much 
mercy." 

"The  less  you  give  him  the  better  it  will  suit  me," 
said  Dan. 

"I'll  see  you  later  on,"  he  continued,  as  the  dragoon 
moved  toward  his  steed.  "If  I'm  not  mistaken,  I'll  see 
a  good  deal  of  you  fellows  hereafter." 

"Then  you  intend  to  enter  the  ranks?" 

"Yes ;  such  is  my  intention.  Col.  Tarleton  has  of- 
fered to  take  me  in,  and  I  think  I  would  look  pretty 
well  in  a  red  coat;  don't  you  think?" 

"As  well  as  the  best." 

Both  men  laughed,  and  Red  Dan  accompanied  the 
dragoon  some  distance  down  the  road. 

When  the  young  man  reached  Jeffrys  Manor  a  few 
hours  later  he  crossed  a  wide  hall  and  entered  a  large 
room,  in  the  middle  of  which  sat  his  father. 

Austin  Jeffrys  had  long  since  passed  the  middle 
period  of  life,  and  was  nearing  its  close. 

He  was  an  imposing  lookmg  old  man,  with  a  wealth 
of  snowy  hair  that  fell  in  the  wildest  abandon  over  his 
still    shapely    shoulders.     His    nose    was    sharp    and 


Father  and  Son.  39 

drooping  like  the  bills  of  some  hawks,  and  his  eyes  as 
gray  and  keen  as  an  eagle's. 

As  Dan  entered  the  chamber  the  elder  Jeffrys  looked 
up  and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  welcome. 

"You're  a  pretty  blade,"  said  the  old  man.  ''Where 
have  you  been  roystering  now?  If  I  mistake  not, 
you've  not  been  home  for  three  days.  Did  you  stay 
till  the  gamblers  fleeced  you?'^ 

"I  haven't  seen  Eagle  Tavern  for  three  whole  days," 
answered  Dan,  with  some  acerbity.  "Haven't  I  a  right 
to  ride  where  I  please " 

"Ready  to  be  picked  up  by  some  of  these  rebel  for- 
ayers?  Don't  you  know  that  men  like  Marion  or 
Black  Gorman  would  like  to  catch  you  and  hold  you 
for  ransom?" 

"Well,  you'd  ransom  me,  I  suppose?" 

"Who  would  if  I  did  not,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 

Red  Dan  threw  his  riding  whip  upon  a  table  ifl 
one  corner  of  the  room  and  went  over  to  the  window 
and  stood  there. 

His  back  was  turned  to  his  father,  who  regarded 
him  in  silence  from  the  depths  of  his  chair. 

Austin  Jeffrys  was  a  widower,  having  lost  his  wife, 
Dan's  mother,  before  the  beginning  of  the  war,  and 
Heaven  had  blessed  him  w4th  no  other  heir. 

"Dan,"  he  said  at  last,  when  he  had  completed  his 
fstudy  of  the  figure  at  the  window. 

"What  is  it?'^ 


4Q  Father  and  Son. 


"I  want  you  to  be  looking  round  for  a  wife  pretty 


soon." 


'Time  enough  yet,"  replied  Red  Dan,  in  a  careless 
manner. 

*'But  I  say  now !  And,  mind  you,  I  don't  want  you 
to  be  looking  after  any  of  these  fair  rebels." 

"Oh,  you  are  to  select  for  me,  then  ?" 

"I  am  to  have  a  say  in  the  matter,  understand  that." 

"And  I  am  to  marry  the  person  whom  you  see  fit 
to  choose  for  your  daughter-in-law?  Well,  my  dear 
father,  whom  have  you  selected?  I  am  dying  to 
know." 

The  old  man  pushed  back  a  strand  of  white  hair 
which  had  fallen  over  his  forehead. 

"They  tell  me,"  he  said,  looking  into  Dan's  face, 
"that  you  have  been  making  love." 

"Indeed?  Some  Httle  bird  broke  the  news,  I  sup- 
pose." 

Austin  Jefifrys  did  not  seem  to  notice  this  sarcastic 
levity  on  his  son's  part. 

"They  have  said  that  you  want  to  ally  the  house  of 
Jeffrys  with  that  of  an  infernal  rebel." 

"Love  seldom  takes  notice  of  politics." 

"It  must  in  this  affair !"  cried  the  old  Tory,  bringing 
one  hand  down  upon  the  side  arm  of  the  chair. 

Dan  was  silent. 

"You,  'tis  said,  have  been  making  love  to  the  child 


Father  and  Son.  41 


of  an  old  foe  of  mine — to  the  daughter  of  Thomas 

Callaway." 

"Well,  what  about  it  ?" 

'This,  sir!"  roared  Austin  Jeffrys,  as  he  left  his 
chair  and  towered  before  his  son  like  a  Lear  suddenly 
lifted  in  rage,  "it  shall  not  be  so!  You  must  not  think 
of  taking  for  a  wife  the  spawn  of  this  rebel.  Why, 
sir,  he  detied  the  king,  he  reads  rebel  newspapers,  gives 
aid  and  comfort  to  our  enemies,  and  entertains  the 
dastardly  Swamp  Fox  and  his  minions." 

The  rage  of  the  speaker  was  terrible. 

**They  say  that  you  are  forcing  your  attentions  upon 
his  daughter,  that  she  does  not  care  a  pinch  for  you, 
yet " 

He  seemed  to  break  down  suddenly  in  the  intensity 
of  his  overweening  passion,  and  Red  Dan  waited 
coolly  for  him  to  resume. 

"By  the  powers  above !  I'll  send  you  into  the  army, 
and  let  the  rebels  split  your  head  before  Til  see  you 
the  son-in-law  of  Thomas  Callaway!"  he  suddenly 
shouted. 

"I've  been  thinking  of  joining  Col.  Tarleton  myself." 
"You  have,  eh?     That's  good.     But  tell  me  if  it's 
true  that  you've  been  thinking  of  Mistress  Callaway 
as  well?" 

"I  have.    She's  quite  handsome,  you  know " 

"But  she's  not  for  you.     You  must  leave  off  this 


42  Father  and  Son. 


affair.  I  won't  permit  it.  When  can  you  join  Tarle- 
ton  ?" 

"Say  the  day  after  to-morrow.'^ 

"Will  you  really  go?" 

"I  will.  I  like  a  busy  Hfe,  and  those  who  ride  with 
him  find  it  to  their  heart's  content,  they  say." 

"Then  to  Col.  Tarleton  you  go  the  day  after  to- 
morrow. You  can  have  Black  Betty,  and  she  can 
overtake  the  fleetest  rebel  that  ever  showed  his  heels 
to  the  king's  dragoons." 

Red  Dan  stepped  back. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"You  .are  to  give  up  this  love  afifair  with  Mistress 
Callaway,"  was  the  reply.  "Is  it  true  that  so  long  ago 
as  last  summer  she  cut  you  across  the  face  with  her 
riding  whip?" 

"I  believe  it  must  be,  since  you  seem  to  be  so  well 
informed,  sir!" 

"Good  !  Good  for  her !"  laughed  the  old  Tory.  "Cut 
my  son,  Dan,  with  her  whip !  I  ought  to  pension  Mis- 
tress Callaway.  Now  go,  sir,  and  make  preparations 
for  joining  Col.  Tarleton." 

Red  Dan  strode  from  the  room  and  shut  the  door 
with  considerable  emphasis. 

"Wants  me  to  get  killed,  I  suppose,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "Well,  though  I  ride  with  Banastre  Tarleton,  I 
will  see  to  it  that  no  rebel  saber  leaves  its  crimson 
mark  on  my  anatomy." 


Father  and  Son.  43 

Beyond  the  door  an  old  man  was  striding  up  and 
down  the  room  with  the  impatience  of  a  tiger. 

His  hands  were  cUnched  and  his  face  was  white. 

**I'd  hang  all  the  rebels  in  the  Carolinas  if  I  could 
before  my  son  Dan  should  marry  Mistress  Callaway !'' 
He  breathed  hard.  "I  have  selected  a  wife  for  him ; 
but  I  didn't  see  fit  to  tell  him  her  name.    Not  just  yet." 

A  moment  later  Dan's  face  appeared  at  the  door. 

"Here  come  some  of  your  friends,  father,"  he  an- 
nounced. 

"Friends  of  the  Legion?" 

"Well,  hardly,"  and  Dan  withdrew. 

Austin  Jeffrys  soon  appeared  on  the  long  vine-cov- 
ered veranda  of  the  manor  house,  and  fixed  his  gaze 
upon  some  twenty  horsemen  who  galloped  up  the 
road.  They  soon  turned  into  the  grounds,  and  their 
leader  saluted  the  old  man. 

"Anybody  worth  hanging  round  here?"  asked  Capt. 
Samson. 

"Not  just  in  this  vicinity,  I  believe.  You  might 
find  some  good  hanging  timber  a  little  further  up  the 
road." 

"Then  we'll  look  for  it.  By  the  way,  we're  quite 
thirsty  and  would  like  a  little  wine." 

Knowing  that  it  would  not  do  to  refuse  the  Tory 
marauders  anything,  Austin  Jeffrys  sent  a  slave  into 
his  wine  cellars,  and  in  a  short  time  the  band — a  rough- 


44  Father  and  Son. 

looking,  merciless  set  of  men — were  helping  them- 
selves. 

They  drank  numerous  toasts  to  King  George,  and, 
of  course,  confusion  to  Washington  and  Greene ;  they 
filled  their  glasses  to  the  master  of  the  manor,  and 
old  Austin  bowed  as  they  drank  his  health. 

They  emptied  a  good  many  bottles,  and  at  last  rode 
oflF  with  wild  huzzas,  Capt.  Samson  looking  like  a 
wild  Cossack  in  the  saddle. 

'That's  a  pretty  lot  of  rascals,"  smiled  Austin  Jef- 
frys,  as  he  looked  after  them.  "King  George  would 
blush  to  own  them  as  his  allies.  I  hope  the  day  will 
come  when  the  last  of  them  will  go  down  before  the 
broadswords  of  the  Swamp  Fox.  I'm  ashamed  of  the 
whole  lot,  but  they're  for  the  king,  and  so  am  I." 

"You  treated  your  friends  right  royally,"  said  the 
voice  of  Red  Dan  at  his  father's  elbow. 

"It  was  the  quickest  and  cheapest  way  to  get  rid 
of  them.  It  is  a  burning  shame  that  we  must  call  such 
villains  our  friends.  I  trust  it  will  not  be  for  long 
any  more." 


CHAPTER   V. 

RODNEY     AND     JACK's     FIRST     FIGHT. 

When  Rodney  and  Jack  reached  Greene's  army  they 
found  it  encamped  at  the  Iron  Works  on  the  Haw, 
just  above  High  Rock  ford. 

The  wily  commander,  who  so  far  had  completely  out- 
witted the  renowned  Cornwallis,  had  halted  there  for 
reinforcements  before  risking  the  battle  he  had  planned 
at  Guildford. 

His  army  consisted  for  the  most  part  of  militia,  but 
through  it  ran  a  sprinkling  of  veterans,  including  Lee's 
Legion  and  Washmgton's  splendid  cavalry.  The 
militia  were  men  who  enlisted  for  no  definite  period, 
who  frequently  ran  at  the  first  fire,  leaving  the  older 
troops  to  stand  the  brunt  of  the  engagement. 

But  for  his  militia  Greene  would  have  won  more  bat- 
tles than  he  did,  but  for  all  this  his  defeats  were  really 
victories,  for  the  enemy  was  usually  so  crippled  that 
he  dared  not  pursue. 

The  boys  rode  into  the  American  camp,  and  Col. 
Washington,  who  was  from  the  first  proud  of  his 
young  recruits,  presented  them  at  once  to  Greene. 

They  saw  a  rather  portly  man,  with  a  kindly  coun- 
tenance and  blue  eyes.  The  effects  of  his  long  retreat 
before  the  British  army  had  told  but  little  on  the  in- 


46  Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight. 

trepid  Greene.  He  seemed  as  fresh  after  his  two  hun- 
dred miles  of  marching  and  countermarching  as  when 
he  began  it. 

He  was  simply  tireless,  and  could  wear  out  the 
youngest  man  under  him. 

More  than  once  Cornwallis  thought  he  had  the 
American  in  his  net,  but  time  and  again  Greene  crossed 
the  rivers,  putting  them  between  him  and  the  enemy, 
so  that  when  the  British  were  about  to  bag  their  game 
it  was  out  of  their  reach,  and  a  turbulent  stream  rolled 
between. 

This  was  actually  done  four  times  that  eventful 
spring,  and  at  last,  with  the  Haw  between  him  and 
Cornwallis,  Greene  prepared  to  measure  arms  with 
one  of  the  ablest  generals  of  Europe. 

"So  you  wish  to  take  service  under  my  banners?" 
asked  the  general,  when  the  boy  partisans  had  been 
presented. 

"That  is  what  we  are  here  for,"  answered  Rodney, 
pleased  with  the  great  soldier's  kindly  manners. 

"Very  well,  I  shall  be  too  glad  to  test  your  courage, 
which  I  am  sure  will  prove  all  I  look  for.  You  are 
strong  and  active.  I  am  certain  you  will  give  good  re- 
ports of  yourselves.     Are  you  mounted?" 

"We  brought  our  horses  along." 

"Then  they  escaped  the  British  and  Tories?" 

"They  would  have  had  a  fight  for  them  had  they 
tried  to  take  them,"  said  Jack,  his  eye  kindling. 


Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight.  47 

"I've  no  doubt  of  that,  my  boy.  Capt.  Trevors,  you 
will  see  that  our  young  friends  are  cantoned  with  Col. 
Washington's  command." 

The  captain  saluted. 

"You  are  armed,  I  see,"  continued  Greene.  "Whc 
made  your  broadswords?" 

"Abner  Jackson,   of  Rocky   Ford." 

"Which  is  guarantee  that  they  are  finely  tempered. 
I  wish  I  could  arm  a  legion  with  the  old  smith's 
weapons.     There  are  none  better  in  North  Carolina." 

"He  makes  good  blades,  sir." 

"The  very  best,  and,  what  is  still  better,  he  makes 
none  for  our  enemies,  if  he  knows  it." 

"Not  unless  he  is  forced  to." 

*Ah,  do  they  force  Jackson  to  be  their  armorer?" 

*They  did  so  once,  and  he  made  a  broadsword  for 
a  doughty  Tory  leader,  but  he  knew  how  to  temper 
it  so  that  it  broke  at  the  hilt  the  first  stroke." 

Greene  laughed  at  this,  and  his  blue  eyes  kindled. 

The  boys  were  then  shown  to  the  camp  of  Wash- 
ington's troopers,  where  they  again  met  their  leader, 
who  received  them  kindly.  He  said  that  his  force  had 
become  depleted  by  the  arduous  campaign  they  had 
just  passed  through,  and  that  he  needed  all  the  good 
swords  fortune  chose  to  send  him. 

"Would  you  mind  going  out  on  a  scout?"  he  asked 
the  two  boys,  several  hours  after  their  arrival  in  camp. 


i( 


t{' 


48  Rodney  and  Jack's   First  Fight. 


"I  don't  care  to  hurry  you  into  action,  but  I  suppose 
you  didn't  come  to  us  to  remain  idle." 

"We  came  for  action,"  replied  Rodney,  "and  any 
service  you  have  for  us  will  be  welcome,  whatever 
it  be." 

*'We  hear  that  the  Tory  chief,  Capt.  Samson,  is  in 
the  vicinity,  and  we  would  like  to  let  him  know  that 
there  is  some  mettle  in  Continental  swords." 

Rodney  started  at  these  words. 

Was  he  to  meet  Capt.  Samson  so  soon  after  the  af- 
fray at  the  smithy?  He  had  not  forgotten  that  in- 
dividual's last  words,  which  composed  a  threat,  and 
now  that  he  was  armed  and  in  many  ways  the  Tory's 
equal,  he  burned  to  encounter  him  again. 

"I  should  like  to  meet  Capt.  Samson,"  he  said, 
eagerly. 

An  old  enemy,  eh?" 

We've   met   before,    but    under    different   circum- 
stances." 

*'He  is  a  braggart,  a  sort  of  Bombastes  Furioso ;  but 
for  all  this  he  gives  us  no  end  of  trouble.  Marion, 
shrewd  as  he  is,  has  failed  to  bag  this  Carolina  fox, 
but  we  hope  for  better  success." 

Col.  Washington  waited  till  the  shades  of  night  be- 
gan to  lengthen  among  the  pines,  when  twenty  men 
were  chosen  from  his  command,  and  Rodney  and  Jack 
took  their  places  in  the  ranks. 


(( 


t(^ 


Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight.  49 

Not  willing  to  intrust  the  expedition  to  a  subaltern, 
Washington  took  command  in  person. 

A  better  lot  of  saberers  never  rode  through  the 
Carolina  woods. 

Col.  Washington  w^as  the  Murat  of  Greene's  army, 
and  whenever  he  swooped  down  upon  infantry  the  red- 
coated  ranks  recoiled,  for  he  charged  like  a  whirl- 
wdnd,  and  his  strong-armed  heroes  often  cut  their  way 
through  the  scarlet  legions.  He  had  saved  the  day  for 
Greene  on  more  than  one  occasion,  and  the  command- 
ing general  knew  well  that  he  did  not  have  to  call 
in  vain  on  Col.  Washington. 

The  country  of  the  Haw  was  well  wooded,  but  here 
and  there  little  open  places  peeped  forth,  and  now  and 
then  a  house  was  to  be  seen. 

The  command  rode  along  the  river  for  some  distance 
and  then  struck  off  into  the  country,  galloping  over 
tie  hills  and  underneath  the  pines. 

Word  of  Capt.  Samson's  appearance  in  a  certain  re- 
gion had  been  secretly  brought  to  Washington,  and 
the  neighborhood  was  so  well  known  to  the  Ameri- 
can that  he  needed  no  guide. 

They  half  expected  to  find  Capt.  Samson  and  his 
marauders  engaged  in  some  pestiferous  business  not 
in  accordance  wath  the  rules  of  civilized  warfare,  for 
he  disdained  such  and  fought  as  he  pleased. 

For  some  miles  the  ride  was  without  moment.  The 
boys   liked   their   new   experience ;   they   chatted   with 


50  Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight. 

_     -     .,- — — . • ■-    .        ■     ■■       ■M^,^ 

the  others  as  they  rode  along,  but  suddenly  word  for 
silence  passed  through  the  ranks. 

At  last  the  little  party  came  out  upon  the  summit 
of  a  gentle  rise  that  commanded  a  fair  view  of  a 
valley. 

In  another  moment  voices  were  heard  and  then  a 
flame  shot  heavenward. 

"At  their  dastardly  work,"  said  Col.  Washington, 
through  set  teeth.  "The  wolves  of  the  South  are  hav- 
ing a  feast  to  their  liking.    Forward !" 

The  command  descended  the  hill  in  complete  si- 
lence, their  weapons  being  held  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
prevent  noises,  but  at  the  foot  of  the  rise  all  halted 
again. 

The  flame  had  increased. 

A  house  was  burning,  a  mile  away,  and  already  dark 
forms  could  be  seen  in  the  glow. 

Capt.  Samson,  or  some  one  else,  had  fired  the  home 
of  a  Whig,  and  his  men  were  carrying  on  like  a  lot 
of  demons. 

Every  now  and  then  their  shouts  came  to  the  ears 
of  the  American  avengers. 

It  made  their  blood  boil. 

At  a  signal  from  Col.  Washington  the  whole  com- 
mand moved  forward  again. 

Nearer  and  nearer,  like  death  eagles,  they  apH 
proached  the  enemy. 


Rodney  and  Jack's   First  Fight.  51 

A  dense  clump  of  timber  hid  them  from  the  Tory 
band. 

The  horses  of  the  Americans  seemed  to  know  as 
well  as  their  riders  what  was  going  on. 

Their  muscles  quivered  for  the  fray,  but  they  curbed 
their   impatience. 

At  the  edge  of  the  timber,  after  passing  through 
it  unobserved,  the  voice  of  Col.  Washington  startled 
everv'one  that  heard  it. 

"Forward  !  Americans  !     Charge !" 

Like  a  score  of  thunderbolts  the  little  force  dashed 
from  the  copse  and  fell  upon  the  forms  about  the  burn- 
ing house. 

It  was  a  complete  surprise,  but  the  Americans  soon 
discovered  that  thev  had  a  stubborn  foe  to  deal  with. 

"Down  with  the  rebels !"  roared  a  voice  above  the 
sound  of  cracking  pistols. 

"Death  to  the  house  burners !"  came  back  in  reply. 

Col.  Washington's  command  was  bravely  met  after 
the  first  onslaught. 

Fully  forty  Tories  sprang  to  saddle  and  advanced 
upon  their  foes. 

The  clash  came  fairly  in  the  spreading  light  of  the 
blazing  home. 

The  Americans  attempted  to  ride  through  the  ma- 
rauders' ranks,  then  to  turn  and  cut  them  down  from 
the  rear  with  their  heavy  broadswords. 

But  the  Tories,  led  on  by  their  chief,  a  giant  with  a 


52  Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight. 


black  beard,  prevented  the  carrying  out  of  such  tactics, 
and  for  the  moment  Col.  Washington  was  forced  to 
fall  back. 

In  full  face  of  his  enemy  he  reformed  his  ranks  and 
came  on  again. 

This  time  nothing  could  stop  the  impetuous  Ameri- 
cans. They  broke  through  the  Tory  lines,  scattering 
them  like  chaff,  while  their  cry,  "Washington  and 
Liberty!"  soared  to  the  stars. 

During  the  melee  Rodney  and  Jack  kept  close  to- 
gether. 

They  plunged  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and 
Rodney  had  his  cap  swept  from  his  head  by  a  sword 
that  barely  missed  his  skull. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  Jack,  seeing  his  friend's 
peril,  discharged  his  pistol  squarely  into  the  face  of 
the  Tor}',  and  a  saddle  w^as  emptied  as  the  marauder 
released  the  lines  and  tumbled  to  the  ground. 

"Quick !  the  big  captain,  Rodney !"  cried  Jack.  "I 
believe  it  is  Capt.  Samson." 

The  giant  leader  of  the  Tory  band,  seeing  that  his 
men  were  fleeing  before  the  swords  of  Washington, 
had  turned  himself,  and,  hatless,  was  urging  his  steed 
to  his  utmost  efforts. 

This  was  the  man  Rodney  had  singled  out. 

"Come,  Jack!" 

The  boys  spurred  their  steeds  after  the  fleeing  foe. 

In  a  moment  they  were  out  of  the  line  of  the  fight- 


Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight.  53 

ing,  seeing  nothing  but  the  horseman,  who  had  re- 
doubled  his    efforts. 

It  promised  to  be  an  even  race,  for  the  three  steeds 
seemed   well   matched. 

Rodney  forgot  everything  but  the  affair  at  the  forge ; 
he  yearned  to  meet  Capt.  Samson  again. 

''Take  him  on  the  left,"  he  said,  hurriedly,  to  Jack. 
**We  must  overtake  him  this  side  the  dark  copse  yon- 
der." 

The  boys  separated. 

Rodney  turned  a  little  to  the  right,  while  Jack  rode 
to  the  left ;  thus  they  hoped  to  come  alongside  the  Tory 
leader,  one  on  each  side  and  simultaneously. 

They  bent  every  energy  to  this  one  purpose. 

At  last  they  could  hear  the  panting  of  the  hard- 
pressed  horse  compelled  to  carry  his  heavy  burden  in 
such  a  race  for  life. 

Not  once  did  the  Tory  look  back.  He  seemed  to 
imagine  that  at  least  half  a  dozen  of  Washington's 
veteran  troopers  were  at  his  heels. 

The  noses  of  the  boys'  horses  were  nearly  at  the 
hunted  courser's  flanks,  when  suddenly  the  man  in  the 
saddle  turned. 

A  cry  of  recognition  fell  from  Rodney's  lips. 

Sure  enough  it  was  Capt.  Samson! 

The  blazing  eyes  of  the  Tory  leader  flashed  their 
baleful  light  into  the  faces  of  the  boys. 


54  Rodney  and  Jack's  First  Fight. 

Jack  rose  in  his  stirrups  as  he  swung  the  saber  over 
his  head. 

"Surrender !'' 

A  hoarse  cry  of  defiance  was  the  answer  he  re- 
ceived. 

At  the  same  moment  Rodney,  standing  almost  erect, 
dashed  alonside. 

"Down  with  Tories !"  pealed  from  his  throat. 

Capt.  Samson  tried  to  parry  the  blow  he  saw  about 
to  fall  upon  him.  He  threw  up  his  sword  arm  and 
struck  with  all  his  might,  but  the  boy  was  too  quick  for 
him. 

Rodney's  weapon  cam^e  down  upon  the  Tory's  head, 
and  at  the  same  time  Jack  fearlessly  seized  the  bit  of 
the  plunging  steed. 

Capt.  Samson  let  his  sword  fall,  he  reeled  in  the 
darkish  saddle,  shot  Rodney  a  savage  glance,  and  lay 
on  the  neck  of  his  horse. 

The  following  moment,  as  the  steed  stopped,  the 
huge  bulk  of  the  Tory  captain  slipped  to  the  ground 
and  quivered  there. 

"The  end  of  a  brute !"  said  Jack. 

No ;  it  was  by  no  means  the  end  of  Capt.  Samson. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

ON    SECRET     SERVICE     FOR     GREENE. 

Upon  examination  it  was  discovered  that  the  re- 
nowned Capt.  Samson  was  not  dead,  but  unconscious. 

The  blow  delivered  by  Rodney,  while  intended  to 
be  fatal,  had  proved  but  a  glancing  one,  enough,  how- 
ever, to  stretch  the  Tory  on  the  ground  and  render 
him  hors  de  combat  for  the  time. 

He  was  securely  bound  when  signs  of  returning  con- 
sciousness were  noticed,  and  he  was  carried  back  to 
the  victorious  Americans. 

He  proved  a  sulky  prisoner ;  but  when  he  wanted  to, 
he  could  berate  them  in  vigorous  language,  which  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  do,  for  he  expected  no  mercy  at  the 
patriots'  hands. 

So  bitter  had  been  the  partisan  warfare  in  the  Caro- 
linas  that  but  little  quarter  was  given ;  trials,  when  had, 
if  the  enemy  was  taken  in  the  act,  were  very  brief,  and 
a  convenient  tree  usually  bore  human  fruit. 

In  this  instance  there  was,  of  course,  a  clamor  for 
severe  justice  in  Capt.  Samson's  case,  for  he  had  been 
taken  in  the  very  act  of  destroying  private  property, 
having  just  burned  out  a  Whig  family ;  but  Col.  Wash- 
ington deemed  it  best  to  take  his  prisoner  back  to 
Greene's  camp,  which  was  done. 


56  On  Secret  Service  for  Greene. 

Rodney  Black  received  some  dark  glances  from 
Capt.  Samson,  who  evidently  recalled  the  affair  at  the 
forge.  He  returned  the  looks  with  interest,  so  that 
there  was  no  love  lost  between  the  two. 

Samson  was  placed  under  guard  in  the  American 
camp. 

He  had  lost  five  of  his  men  in  the  fight  at  the  burn- 
ing house,  while  four  others  had  been  taken  prisoners. 

Gen.  Greene  resolved  to  prevent  the  Tory  from  tak- 
ing any  part  in  the  coming  battle,  which  was  near  at 
hand,  therefore  he  kept  him  bound  in  a  small  log  hut, 
within  the  confines  of  the  camp. 

The  morning  after  the  night  battle  Rodney  was 
called  into  the  presence  of  the  American  commander. 

After  praising  him  for  his  part  in  the  affray.  Gen. 
Greene  asked  him  if  he  cared  to  undertake  a  secret 
mission,  saying  that  he  could  complete  his  work  and 
return  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  expected  battle  at 
Guildford. 

"I  am  at  your  service,  sir,"  said  the  boy.  "As  a 
soldier,  it  is  my  duty  to  carry  out,  so  far  as  I  can,  the 
wishes  of  mv  commander." 

"I  desire  to  secure  some  information  regarding  the 
enUstments  of  Tories  in  Cornwallis'  army.  It  is  said 
that  they  are  flocking  to  his  standard  in  the  vicinity 
of  Rocky  Fork,  and,  I  believe,  you  are  familiar  with 
the  ground." 

"I  came  from  that  region,  sir." 


On  Secret  Service  for  Greene.  57 

''And  that  is  why  I  think  you  are  the  proper  person 
to  send  back  there." 

"I  am  ready  to  go,  your  excellency." 

Gen.  Greene  then  proceeded  and  gave  Rodney  his 
instructions,  telling  him  that  his  commission  required  a 
good  deal  of  secrecy,  that  he  would  be  expected  to  get 
at  the  facts  in  the  case,  using  his  own  means  for  do- 
ing so. 

It  was  a  service  which  the  boy  partisan  did  not  think 
of  when  he  enlisted  under  Greene's  banners. 

He  knew  the  fate  of  spies  when  captured ;  but  as  he 
was  going  back  to  his  own  stamping  ground  he  felt 
sure  that  he  would  be  able  to  succeed. 

That  same  night  he  set  out. 

This  time  he  was  going  alone,  as  Jack  was  to  re- 
main in  camp  and  keep  an  eye  on  Capt.  Samson. 

The  ride  to  Rocky  Fork  was  without  particular  in- 
cident. 

When  Rodney  came  in  sight  of  the  old  forge  it  was 
dark,  but  the  outlines  of  the  shop  rose  between  him 
and  the  brilliant  stars. 

There  hung  over  the  place  a  stillness  which  seemed 
ghostly. 

Back  of  the  smithv  stood  the  little  home  of  old 
Jackson  and  Dora,  his  niece,  and  one  of  Rodney's 
best  friends. 

The  boy  drew  near  and  halted  in  front  of  the  shop. 


58  On  Secret  Service  for  Greene. 


Spring  had  come  again,  and  the  trees  had  put  forth 
in  full  leaf  and  the  air  was  invigorating. 

Rodney  was  on  the  eve  of  moving  on  when  a  low 
hum  of  voices  came  to  his  ear. 

The  old  smithy  was  occupied ! 

As  he  bent  forward  he  became  sure  of  this.  There 
were  men  in  the  shop. 

Perhaps  old  Jackson  was  holding  a  meeting  with 
some  of  the  Whigs  of  the  neighborhood,  for  he  knew 
the  old  man's  sentiments. 

"Swear  for  the  king — forever !"  said  a  low  voice, 
which  reached  the  ears  of  the  alert  boy. 

"We  swear !" 

The  answer  was  chorused  by  a  number  of  men,  and 
this  startled  the  boy. 

When  had  old  Jackson  turned  Tory?  What  had 
happened  to  cause  him  to  desert  the  cause  of  liberty  ? 

Rodney,  with  one  hand  on  the  butt  of  his  pistol, 
leaned  nearer  still,  for  he  now  knew  he  was  on  dan- 
gerous ground,  and  not  a  word  escaped  him. 

The  secret  conclave  in  the  smithy  must  be  probed 
to  the  bottom,  for  here  was  the  very  information 
Gen.   Greene  wanted. 

"We  are  four  and  twenty  now,"  continued  the  voice, 
which  had  administered  the  oath  of  allegiance.  "By 
to-morrow  night  there  will  be  others.  What  say  you, 
Mr.  Jeffrys,  to  a  raid  before  you  go  to  join  our 
friends  ?'* 


On  Secret  Service  for  Greene.  59 

"It  might  be  a  good  idea  to  give  this  Whig  nest  a 
good  cleaning  out,"  repHed  a  voice,  which  Rodney  at 
once  recognized  as  belonging  to  Red  Dan. 

"Then  we  will." 

"Confound  it !  I  want  the  matter  attended  to  better 
than  the  other  party  did.  They  let  the  old  Whig  Cal- 
laway slip  through  their  fingers." 

"They  couldn't  help  it,  if  my  information  is  cor- 
rect, Brother  Jefifrys.  You  see,  Black  Gorman  came 
down  upon  them  like  death  upon  the  Persians,  and 
they  had  to  release  their  captives.  But  we  will  take 
care  of  them  this  time." 

The  voices  now  ceased,  and  there  were  signs  that 
the  night  conclave  was  breaking  up. 

Rodney  moved  on  again,  and  halted  under  some 
trees,  where  he  could  not  be  observed. 

Presently  a  number  of  men  glided  past  his  hiding 
place  and  vanished. 

He  counted  twenty-four. 

When  the  last  figure  had  disappeared  he  turned  to- 
ward the  house. 

He  wondered  if  old  Jackson  and  Dora  were  aware 
of  the  secret  gathering. 

Tethering  his  horse  in  the  yard,  where  the  foliage 
screened  him,  he  crept  toward  the  darkened  domicile. 
Not  a  sound  broke  the  strange  stillness. 
He  took  good  care  to  make  no  noise  as  he  crossed 


6o  On  Secret  Service  for  Greene. 

the  porch,  and  in  a  moment  he  had  tried  the  latch  of 
the  door. 

To  his  surprise  it  opened  without  difficulty,  and  he 
stood  in  the  darkness,  listening  with  all  ears. 

He  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  to  the  floor,  every- 
thing was  so  still. 

Taking  out  his  flint  and  tinder  box  he  struck  a  light, 
and  as  the  flame  leaped  up  from  the  tow  he  held  it 
above  his  head  and  took  a  survey  of  the  little  room. 

To  his  utter  astonishment  it  was  bare  of  furniture. 

Rodney  gazed  with  increased  amazement  at  the  sight 
before  him,  and  his  wonder  grew. 

What  had  become  of  Dora  and  her  uncle? 

Shutting  the  door  behind  him  he  resolved  to  probe 
the  mystery  to  the  bottom,  for  he  did  not  believe  that 
they  would  desert  their  home  without  some  cause. 

He  proceeded  to  another  room — there  were  but  two 
on  the  ground  floor — but  found  it  as  bare  as  the  one 
just  inspected. 

The  Jacksons  were  surely  gone. 

Then  the  boy  partisan  found  the  narrow  stairway 
which  led  to  the  craniped  garret  overhead. 

He  crept  up  the  rickety  stairs  with  the  ever  ready 
pistol  in  his  grasp,  and  at  the  topmost  step  halted  and 
listened. 

Even  the  darkness  told  him  that  the  loft  was  as 
deserted  as  the  lower  part  of  the  house ;  but  in  order 


On  Secret  Service  for  Greene.  6i 

to  make  sure  he  was  about  to  resort  to  his  tinder  box 
again  when  a  sound  Hke  a  groan  fell  upon  his  ears. 

The  boy  fell  back  and  raised  the  weapon. 

He  tried  to  estimate  from  what  particular  corner 
of  the  attic  the  sound  had  emanated,  but  this  he  was 
unable  to  do. 

"Merciful  heavens!  must  I  die  here?" 

Rodney  started  to  his  feet  with  a  cry. 

It  was  a  female's  voice,  and  it  sent  a  thrill  through 
every  fiber  of  his  frame. 

He  struck  a  light  as  soon  as  possible  and  advanced. 

In  a  moment,  as  it  seemed,  the  light  penetrated  the 
darkest  corners  of  the  hole,  and  then  another  exclama- 
tion welled  from  Rodney's  throat. 

Lying  on  the  bare  floor,  with  her  hands  bound  on 
her  back  and  her  ankles  lashed  together,  lay  Dora,  the 
blacksmith's  niece. 

Her  face  was  colorless,  and  her  eyes  looked  like 
globes  of  pain  in  the  glare  of  the  boy's  improvised 
torch. 

"Is  it  you — you,  Rodney?"  cried  Dora.  "Thank 
Heaven !  you  have  found  me  at  last !" 

The  young  trooper  could  not  speak  for  a  moment. 

"What  has  happened?"  he  asked,  at  length.  "In 
the  name  of  Heaven !  what  brought  about  this  terrible 
misfortune?" 

At  the  same  time  he  severed  the  thongs  that  held  the 
girl  prisoner,  and  helped  her  to  her  feet. 


6a  On  Secret  Service  for  Greene. 

"It  was  like  the  bursting  of  a  thunderbolt,"  said 
Dora,  when  she  found  her  tongue,  after  several  ef- 
forts. ''They  came  upon  us  last  night.  They  were 
masked,  and  rode  horses.  They  captured  both  of  us, 
carried  away  the  forge  tools,  bound  me  and  left  me 
where  you  have  found  me." 

"And  your  uncle?" 

"I  know  nothing  about  him.  I  suppose  they  must 
have  dealt  severely  with  him,  for  he  struck  their  leader 
with  the  sledge." 

"But  the  furniture?" 

"Oh,  they  burned  that  in  the  yard." 

"The  miscreants !" 

"They  even  fired  the  house ;  but  a  gust  of  wind  and 
rain  extinguished  that  in  time  to  save  my  life." 

"And  you  have  been  here  ever  since  last  night?" 

"Ever  since  the  miscreants  went  awav." 

'Who  led  them,  Dora?" 

*T  cannot  say ;  they  were  masked,  as  I  told  you ;  but  I 
thought  I  recognized  a  certain  voice." 

"Capt.  Samson's." 

"No;  Red  Dan  JeflFrys'." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,  for  that  young  scamp  is  about 
to  join  Tarleton.  I  discovered  that  much  before  I 
found  you.    You  cannot  remain  here !" 

"I  dare  not.     I " 

"You  have  friends  farther  down  the  creek.     You 


On  Secret  Service  for  Greene.  62 

might  find  an  asylum  in  the  home  of  Mistress  Calla- 
way if  you  wished  to  go  thither." 

Dora  seemed  to  shrink  from  Rodney  at  these  words. 

"What !  Alice  Callaway  take  into  her  home  the  niece 
of  a  blacksmith?"  she  exclaimed. 

"She  is  a  young  lady  with  a  kind  heart,  Dora.  Be- 
sides, both  she  and  her  father  are  true  to  our  cause. 

They  have  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  Tories  and, 
therefore,  would  naturally  feel  for  you." 

"But  my  uncle  ?    If  I  could  be  sure  of  his  fate " 

"I  fear  the  worst,  of  course ;  but  we  will  hope  for 
the  best.  A  day  of  vengeance  is  waiting  for  men  like 
Red  Dan  and  Capt.  Samson.  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  the  latter  villain  since  quitting  Rocky  Fork. 
I  am  now  doing  service  for  Gen.  Greene." 

"Why  are  you  not  with  him?" 

"He  gave  me  a  commission,  which  brings  me  back  to 
this  region.  If  you  will  go  to  Callaway  Manor  I  will 
see  that  you  get  there.    You  can  ride  behind  me " 

"There  seems  no  other  asylum ;  but  it  is  not  very 
near,"  broke  in  Dora. 

"My  horse  is  fleet.  We  will  soon  cover  the  dis- 
tance." 

Dora  made  ready  to  accompany  Rodney  to  Calla- 
way Manor,  and  they  glided  down  the  Stairs. 
The  tinder  box  was  not  needed  now. 
In  a  few  moments  they  were    at   the    door,    when 


64  On  Secret  Service  for  Greene. 

heavy  footsteps  sounded  on  the  porch  and  the  pair 
drew  back. 

The  door  opened  and  some  one  came  inside. 

*'I  guess  the  bird  has  had  her  wings  folded  long 
enough  to  listen  to  me  now,"  said  a  voice,  in  the  almost 
palpable  darkness.  "I'll  play  lover  before  I  take  up 
the  sword  in  earnest ;  and  the  old  man  with  the  sledge 
isn't  here  to  defend  his  kith  and  kin." 

Dora  almost  betrayed  her  presence  with  a  cry,  and 
as  the  unseen  moved  toward  the  stairs  she  clutched 
Kodney's  arm  and  whispered  at  his  ear: 

"Red  Dan !" 


CHAPTER  VII. 
hangman's  oak. 

The  thought  of  Red  Dan  being  so  near  stirred  Rod- 
ney's blood  till  it  tingled  his  finger  ends. 

This  was  an  adventure  he  had  not  taken  into  con- 
sideration, but  he  was  ready  for  it,  nevertheless.  The 
thought  of  the  indignities  suffered  by  Dora  and  her 
uncle  was  enough  to  fire  the  demand  for  vengeance, 
and  he  doubted  not  from  what  he  had  heard  at  the  old 
forge  that  Red  Dan  had  had  a  hand  in  the  infamous 
game. 

So,  surroimded  by  darkness,  the  pair  heard  footsteps 
move  toward  the  stairway,  and  presently  the  door  lead- 
ing to  the  steps  opened. 

They  knew  tnat  in  a  little  while  the  man,  whether 
he  was  Red  Dan  or  not,  would  discover  the  absence 
of  the  prisoner  of  the  garret,  and  that  he  would  come 
back  in  a  fury. 

All  this  happened  just  as  they  imagined,  for  in  a 
short  time  loud  oaths  were  heard  overhead,  heavy  feet 
crossed  the  floor  and  then  came  down  the  stairs. 

The  door  burst  open  and  the  invader  of  the  house 
was  again  near  the  couple. 

"Some  one's  found  her,"  they  heard  him  say.  "She 
could  not  have  released  herself,  for  I  saw  to  it  that  she 


66  Hangman's  Oak. 


was  well  secured ;  but  somehow  or  other  she  is  at 
liberty." 

Rodney  and  Dora  had  drawn  back  to  the  wall,  which 
they  hugged  in  silence,  while  they  listened  to  the  out- 
bursts of  passion  from  the  lips  of  the  unseen. 

"I'll  strike  a  light  and  see  what's  here,  anyhow,"  he 
went  on.  "Maybe  the  boys  overlooked  something.  I 
am  of  a  mind  to  set  fire  to  the  whole  nest." 

Dora  felt  Rodney's  hand  leave  her  wrist  at  this 
threat. 

The  following  moment  she  saw  the  sparks  that  flew 
from  the  unknown's  flint  and  then,  as  a  little  flame 
leaped  up  from  the  ready  tow,  she  witnessed  a  spring 
on  Rodney's  part. 

The  young  patriot  went  across  the  space  that  sepa- 
rated him  from  the  firemaker  like  a  missile  hurled 
from  a  catapult. 

There  was  a  cry,  and  two  persons  fell  to  the  floor, 
and  the  burning  tow  became  scattered. 

Rodney  had  not  miscalculated  the  distance,  nor  the 
strength  of  his  adversary. 

He  had  the  advantage  of  taking  him  unawares,  but 
for  all  this  he  instantly  discovered  that  he  had  an  agile 
foe  to  deal  with,  for  a  pair  of  lusty  arms  were  wrapped 
round  him  and  he  was  pressed  downward  and  against 
the  body  of  his  enemy. 

Not  far  away  the  bit  of  tow  was  blazing  well,  and 


Hangman's  Oak.  67 

Dora,  springing  forward,  picked  it  up  and  held  it  over 
the  struggling  combatants  on  the  floor. 

By  the  aid  of  its  light  Rodney  was  enabled  to  see 
the  face  of  his  antagonist. 

He  was  Dan  Jeffrys  of  Jeffry  Manor  sure  enough. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  Dan  recognized  his  enemy, 
for  he  had  seen  Rodney  at  the  forge ;  indeed,  the  young 
Whig  had  on  several  occasions  assisted  in  the  shoeing 
of  his  horse. 

Dora  threw  down  the  burning  tow  when  she  had 
taken  in  the  situation,  and  struck  Dan's  wrists  with  a 
stick  which  happened  to  be  at  hand. 

This  caused  the  young  Tory  to  loosen  his  clasp  above 
Rodney's  back,  and  the  boy  patriot  took  advantage  of 
this  assistance. 

In  another  minute  his  hands  had  been  transferred 
to  Mr.  Dan's  throat,  and  as  they  tightened  there  the 
Tory  gasped. 

Tighter  and  tighter  grew  the  boy's  grip. 

Dora,  to  assist  him,  stood  resolutely  on  one  of  Dan's 
arms,  nor  could  he  shake  her  off. 

In  time  the  young  spy  was  sure  to  conquer,  and  at 
last  he  found  that  the  victory  was  won. 

He  had  choked  Red  Dan  into  insensibility. 

"Now,"  he  said,  rising  and  throwing  a  look  of  tri- 
umph into  the  young  girl's  face,  "we  have  the  young 
rascal  at  our  mercy.    What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?" 

"The  secret  of  my  uncle's  fate  must  belong  to  him," 


68  Hangman's  Oak. 

said  the  girl.  "He  should  first  of  all  be  compelled  to 
reveal  it." 

'That  he  shall.     But  we  must  secure  him  first." 

Red  Dan  was  bound  with  ropes,  which  were  found 
in  the  old  closet,  near  at  hand,  and  then  the  young  cap- 
tors revived  him  with  the  application  of  water. 

A  bunch  of  tow  burning  in  a  tin  dish  on  the  floor 
lighted  the  apartment,  and  when  Dan  came  back  to 
consciousness  he  tugged  at  his  bonds  and  then  gave 
over. 

"What  did  you  do  with  Uncle  Jackson  last  night?" 
queried  Dora,  bending  forward  and  fixing  her  gaze  on 
the  young  Tory. 


(( 


Last  night?" 


"When  you  and  your  friends  committed  your  depre- 
dations.   You  carried  him  away  with  you." 

"You're  pretty  bold,  my  young  miss.  Do  you  take 
me  for  a  night  robber?" 

"I  take  you  for  just  what  you  are,  Mr.  Jeffrys,"  was 
the  quick  reply.  "I  recognized  your  voice  last  night, 
and  it  was  at  your  instigation  that  I  was  bound  and 
left  in  this  plundered  house." 

"And  so  you  would  like  to  know  what  became  of 
your  relative?" 

"You  know." 

"I'll  tell  you  on  one  condition." 

"Pray  what  is  that?" 

"Then  I  am  to  be  released  and " 


Hangman's  Oak.  69 

''And  permitted  to  escape  unpunished  from  the 
house?''  put  in  Rodney. 

''Exactly,  young  sir." 

The  boy  Whig  glanced  at  Dora,  who  remained  silent 
and  did  not  respond  even  by  gesture  or  look. 

Red  Dan  wanted  to  make  his  own  terms,  and  the 
terms  he  chose  to  make  would,  of  course,  be  very  ad- 
vantageous to  himself. 

Rodney  was  almost  as  deeply  interested  in  the  fate 
of  the  old  blacksmith  as  was  the  fair  girl  at  his  side, 
but  he  believed  that  he  could  have  guessed  it. 

However,  he  thought  he  would  meet  Red  Dan  again 
and  under  other  circumstances,  since  he  was  about  to 
join  Cornwallis,  therefore  he  argued  that  he  could  af- 
ford to  be  lenient  in  return  for  information  concerning 
old  Jackson's  fate. 

"We  accept,"  he  said  to  their  prisoner. 

"Cut  my  bonds,  then." 

"No,  sir ;  not  until  you  have  revealed  the  secret  of 
Jackson's  fate.  I  give  you  my  word,  Dan  Jeffrys, 
that  you  shall  be  free  the  moment  you  have  told  the 
truth." 

Jefifrys  winced  at  this,  and  set  his  teeth  hard. 

"Very  well,"  said  he ;  "the  old  blacksmith  was  taken 
from  the  shop  and  pulled  up." 

There  was  no  contrition  in  the  voice,  no  pity  for  the 
old  man  whose  terrible  fate  had  just  been  revealed. 

"You  did  not  trv  to  save  him?"  cried  Dora. 


70  Hangman's  Oak. 

"I  put  in  my  protest,  Mistress  Dora;  but,  you  sev 
he  struck  our  leader  with  the  sledge,  and  they  were 
determined   on   revenge." 

"Whither  did  they  take  him  ?" 

"To  the  big  oak  at  the  forks  of  the  road,  where 
the  creek  bends.    You  must  know  where  it  is." 

"I  know." 

"And  they  hanged  him?" 

"I  suppose  so.  I  did  not  accompany  them ;  but  they 
told  me  afterward  that  they  pulled  him  up  to  a  limb 
and  left  him  there." 

"The  soulless  miscreants !"  exclaimed  the  young  girl. 
The   next   moment    Rodney's    knife   severed   Dan's 
bonds  and  that  young  worthy  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Well,  you've  kept  your  promise,"  he  growled,  glar- 
ing at  Greene's  young  recruit.  "I  hope  we  may  meet 
again  under  other  circumstances." 

"I  reciprocate  that  feeling,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 
"As  I  hear  you  are  going  to  Cornwallis,  I  am  pretty 
sure  we  will  meet,  provided  you  stand  fire!" 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  sarcasm  in  Rodney's  last 
words,  which  Jeffrys  noticed,  but  without  remark. 

He  was  glad  to  find  himself  free  from  bondage,  and 
without  replying  he  strode  to  the  door. 

"Good-by !"  he  cried,  in  a  hiss  as  he  jerked  the  portal 
open  and  turned  on  the  threshold,  facing  the  young 
pair  in  the  house.    "If  you  two  birds  expect  to  wear  all 


Hangman's  Oak.  71 

your  feathers  at  the  close  of  the  war  you  reckon  with- 
out your  host." 

"What's  that,  you  miserable  Tory?" 

Rodney,  with  flashing  eyes,  sprang  toward  the 
speaker,  but  the  hand  of  Dora  Jackson  held  him  back. 

"You  heard  me,"  repeated  Red  Dan.  "Of  course 
Tm  going  to  Cornwallis.  And  woe  to  you  if  your  head 
gets  in  the  way  of  my  sword !" 

He  was  gone  when  Rodney  broke  from  Dora's  grasp 
and  reached  the  porch. 

He  saw  him  riding  away  on  Black  Betty,  the  hoofs 
of  the  mare  making  music  in  the  road  as  her  shoes 
struck  the  flintv  stones, 

"Come  now,"  said  Rodney  to  his  companion ;  "we 
are  rid  of  Master  Jeffrys  and  can  ride  to  Callaway 
Manor." 

*To  the  other  place  first,"  said  the  girl. 

'The  oak  by  the  creek,  you  mean?" 

*Yes ;  we  can  at  least  give  my  uncle  burial,  for  these 
minions  of  the  king  did  nothing  of  the  kind." 

Rodney  bowed  acquiescence,  and  the  pair  emerged 
from  the  house. 

The  boy  partisan  helped  Dora  to  a  seat  on  the  horse 
behind  him  and  rode  away. 

The  place  designated  by  Red  Dan  as  the  spot  where 
the  execution  of  old  Jackson,  the  blacksmith,  had  taken 
place  was  more  than  a  mile  from  the  smithy. 

The  road  wound  to  it  and  near  by  ran  the  purling 


»<»■ 


tc 


{(•f 


Jl  Hangman's   Oak. 

■        ■  ^    ^  ■  ■■■■■■■■■—.» m.  .,  —  —.-■  ,.i      I  ,      ,      ,.  —  .    ——I.    ■■■■■■■■  ■  I         I,.  ^■«i— ^ 

stream,  fringed  here  and  there  with  the  lordhest  trees 
in  all  that  section. 

The  pair  spoke  but  little  during  the  ride.  Dora's 
heart  was  filled  with  sadness,  and  she  brooded  over 
the  dark  vengeance  of  the  Tory  band,  and  thought  of 
the  work  her  hands  would  have  to  perform  yet  that 
night. 

"Here  we  are,"  spoke  Rodney,  at  length,  as  he 
reined  in  the  horse.     "This  is  the  big  oak,  Dora." 

The  young  girl  turned  and  looked  with  bated  breath, 
talcing  in  the  scene  about  her. 

*T  see  nothing,"  she  said,  at  last. 

The  boy  patriot  urged  his  horse  forward  and  pulled 
up  again. 

"Look !  Here  is  a  bit  of  rope  dangling  from  a  limb ; 
but  I  can  see  nothing  of  the  victim  of  Tory  fury." 

"Perchance  some  friendly  hands  cut  him  down  and 
gave  him  Christian  burial." 

"All  of  which  may  be  true.  But  there's  something 
fluttering  from  the  tree  itself." 

"Seems  like  a  bit  of  paper." 

Rodney  reached  out  a  hand  and  tore  the  object  from 
the  tree  trunk. 

Then  he  urged  the  horse  from  under  the  big  oak 
and  into  the  ligh^,  for  the  moon,  riding  now  through 
the  cloudless  heavens,  flooded  the  spot  with  her  silvery 
effulgence. 

"What  is  on  the  paper?"  cried  Dora,  with  unsup- 


Hangman's  Oak.  73 

pressed  eagerness,  while  Rodney  bent  forward  to  de- 
cipher the  scrawl  which  had  already  caught  his  eye. 

"It  is  a  poor  scrawl,"  replied  the  boy,  without  look- 
ing up.  **It  seems  to  have  been  written  with  a  bit  of 
sharpened  lead.     I'll  master  it  presently,  I  hope." 

Dora  waited  with  impatience. 

*'l  have  it  at  last.  Your  uncle  escaped  the  death  pre- 
pared for  him  by  the  Tories." 

"Escaped  the  noose?" 

"I  can't  say  as  to  that.  But  listen.  This  is  what 
the  paper  says :  'An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth.  Old  Jackson,  deprived  of  all  that  was  dear  to 
him,  has  drawn  his  sword  for  freedom,  and  woe  to  the 
villains  who  tried  to  strangle  him !  The  day  of  settle- 
ment is  not  far  away.  Vengeance !  May  we  meet  in 
battle;  but  wherever  we  meet,  last  night's  work  shall 
be  paid  for.  Jackson.'  " 

Dora  uttered  a  cry  of  relief  when  Rodney  finished 
reading. 

"Surely,  some  one  cut  him  down  before  life  was  ex- 
tinct," she  exclaimed.  "But  why  did  he  not  return 
to  the  forge?  That  is  something  I  cannot  understand. 
But  ail  will  be  explained  later  on." 

"Let  us  hope  so.  Now  for  Callaway  Manor,  and, 
after  seeing  you  safe  there,  I  must  return  with  my  re- 
port to  Gen.  Greene." 

The  horse  was  guided  from  the  scene  of  more  tlian 


74  Hangman's  Oak. 

one  dark  deed  during  the  Revolution,  and  canteiel 
down  the  river  road  with  his  double  burden. 

Rodney  recalled  his  adventure  during  the  last  few 
hours,  and  yearned  for  the  time  when  he  should  meet 
the  redcoats  in  a  pitched  battle. 

That  time  was  close  at  hand,  for  both  Cornwallis 
and  Greene  had  stripped  for  the  conflict. 


CHAPTER   VIIL 

GUILDFORD. 

True  to  Rodney's  predictions,  Dora  found  an  asylum 
at  Callaway  Manor. 

She  was  welcomed  by  Mistress  Alice  who,  as  tho 
reader  knows,  had  already  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
Tories,  and  the  boy  patriot,  after  seeing  her  snugly 
ensconced  there,  bade  the  girls  good-by  and  set  out  on 
his  return  to  the  army. 

He  had  obtained  some  information  of  the  kind 
wanted  by  Gen.  Greene,  and  flattered  himself  that  he 
would  reach  the  army  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  com- 
ing battle. 

The  American  general  had  chosen  Guildford  for  his 
battleground. 

There  he  expected  to  measure  strength  with  Com- 
wallis,  his  inveterate  foe  and  relentless  pursuer. 

He  had  halted  in  his  retreat  across  the  Carolinas 
at  the  Iron  Works  on  the  Haw  to  wait  for  reinforce- 
ments. 

These  came  at  last,  and  he  found  himself  at  the 
head  of  five  thousand  five  hundred  men,  the  largest 
number  ever  mustered  at  one  time  under  his  banners. 

His  long  retreat  had  been  glorious. 

Comwallis   thought   many   times   that   he   had   the 


76  Guildford. 


American  army  in  a  net  from  which  there  was  no 
escape,  but  each  time  had  the  masterful  Greene  sUpped 
through  his  fingeis. 

While  Greene's  army  was  numerically  stronger  than 
thsit  of  his  adversary,  he  could  scarcely  hope  for 
success. 

Cornwallis'  men  were  trained  veterans,  who  had  seen 
service  in  Europe;  the  greater  part  of  Greene's  force 
was  a  mere  militia  rabble. 

On  the  14th  of  March,  178 1,  the  American  army 
halted  at  Guild +nrd. 

A  single  building,  called  by  courtesy  a  courthouse, 
crowned  a  hill  in  the  midst  of  a  clearing. 

The  spot  was  lonely  and  forsaken,  no  other  house 
being  in  sight,  and  everywhere  stretched  a  bound- 
less forest,  broken  here  and  there  by  little  patches  of 
cultivated  land. 

On  the  morning  of  the  15th  Greene  drew^  up  his  lit- 
tle army  in  three  lines. 

He  placed  the  North  Carolina  militia  along  a  stone 
fence  facing  a  cornfield. 

Fifty  yards  behind  them  lay  the  Virginia  recruits 

under  Stevens  and  Lawson. 

Four  hundred  yards  behind  these  stood  the  veteran 
Continentals,  men  of  many  a  bloody  affray,  led  by 
Greene  himself. 

Lee's  Legion  covered  the  right  flank  of  the  little 


Guildford  77 


army,  while  Washington's  heavy  dragoons,  with  whom 
Rodney  and  Jack  served,  protected  the  left. 

Such  was  the  order  of  battle. 

It  was  most  admirable. 

If  the  militia  could  be  held  to  their  work  there  were 
hopes  for  Greene,  otherwise  there  were  none. 

It  was  an  ideal  day. 

Birds  sang  in  the  trees  and  the  sky  was  as  soft  as 
the  blue  vault  of  summer. 

When  Rodney  reached  the  camp,  just  before  the 
march  to  the  battlefieW,  Jack  was  the  first  to  impart 
some  important  information. 

Capt.  Samson  had  effected  his  escape  the  night  be- 
fore. 

It  was  supposed  that  some  Tory  spy,  who  had  entered 
the  camp,  had  assisted  him  to  freedom,  for  the  guard 
on  the  outside  of  the  hut  where  the  captain  was  con- 
fined had  been  strangled  into  insensibility,  and  investi- 
gation proved  that  the  blackbird  was  gone. 

This  did  not  trouble  the  boy  partisan  very  much, 
for  he  felt  that  Capt.  Samson  had  rejoined  the  rem- 
nant of  his  band,  and  he  hoped  that  they  would  take 
part  in  the  coming  battle,  where  chey  could  be  ridden 
down  by  Washington's  dragoons. 

"We'll  clip  his  feathers  good  the  next  time,  never 
fear,"  said  Rodney  to  Jack.  "This  rascal  has  but  a 
breathing  spell,  and  his  career  is  very  apt  to  end  at  the 
point  of  a  sword  or  the  twist  of  a  rope." 


78  Guildford. 


*' Really,  I  hope  so.     And  you  say  that  Red  Dan  is 
now  with  Tarleton?" 
"He  undoubtedly  is." 
That's  good!     Another  chance  to  settle  some  old 


if 


scores." 


This  conversation  took  place  on  the  battle  line,  in  the 
glorious  beams  of  the  sun,  while  the  little  army  waited 
for  the  enemy. 

Higher  and  higher  rose  the  god  of  day,  illuminating 
the  east,  but  Cornwallis  came  not. 

Noon  came,  and  the  air  was  not  stirred  by  the  crash 
of  the  furious  legions. 

At  last,  by  one  o'clock,  the  sound  of  drums  assailed 
the  ears  of  the  colonists. 

The  foe  was  at  hand ! 

In  another  moment  the  earl  threw  forward  his  artil- 
lery and  opened  on  the  foremost  line  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, and,  under  cover  of  the  dense  smoke,  pushed  his 
infantry  into  the  cornfield  facing  the  North  Caro- 
linians. 

Now  was  the  time  for  the  militia  of  the  old  North 
State  to  cover  themselves  with  glory ;  but  it  was  not 
to  be. 

Behind  the  stone  fence  the  patriots  watched  the  red- 
coats as  they  formed  for  the  charge,  they  looked  upon 
the  long  line  of  glittering  steel  and  saw  the  bayonets 
lowered  for  the  work  of  death. 

Suddenly,   with   deafening   shouts,   the   British   line 


Guildford.  79 


dashed  forward,  and  without  firing  a  shot,  the  North 
Carolinians  turned  and  ran  like  a  pack  of  frightened 
sheep. 

Gen.  Greene  had  not  expected  them  to  withstand  the 
charge  of  Europe's  veteran  legions ;  but  he  did  hope 
that  they  would  pour  at  least  three  or  four  rounds  into 
the  scarlet  coats,  but  not  a  round  did  they  fire. 

It  was  shameful. 

Vainl>  did  the  intrepid  Lee  dash  among  them  with 
drawn  saber,  threatening  to  cut  the  cowards  down,  but 
it  had  no  effect ;  they  ran  on  with  the  exulting  foe 
thundering  behind  them. 

The  Virginians  stood  firm. 

They  met  the  enemy  with  a  deadly  volley,  and  the 
ground  was  flecked  with  scarlet  uniforms. 

Bravely  did  they  stand,  till  they  were  overpowered. 
They  did  all  that  men  could  do,  but,  when  crushed  by 
the  weight  of  numbers,  they  turned  and  fled. 

Then  the  grand  old  Continental  line  threw  itself 
forward. 

It  sprang  up  from  the  ground,  and  in  another  mo- 
ment was  upon  the  victorious  British. 

With  lowered  bayonets  the  Americans  flung  them- 
selves upon  Cornwallis'  veterans,  broke  through  their 
ranks  with  a  fury  that  could  not  be  checked,  and  had 
the  battle  almost  won. 

But  at  every  step  they  were  met  by  hundreds  of 
redcoats,  and  the  battle  became  a  carnage. 


8o  Guildford. 


Meanwhile,  our  young  heroes  had  patiently  bided 
their  time. 

They  had  been  told  that  Gen.  Greene  always  re- 
served  Washington   and   his   cavalry   for   the   critical 

moment,  and  at  last  it  came. 

The  Marylanders,  fighting  like  Spartans,  were  about 
to  be  crushed  by  the  foe. 

They  could  hold  the  thin  line  but  a  little  while. 

Suddenly  the  bugles  sounded  loud  and  clear. 

Sabers  had  been  drawn  and  pistols  loosened  in  the 
holsters. 

"We're  in  for  it  now !"  said  Jack  to  Rodney. 

*'At  last,  thank  fortune!'* 

Onw^ard  went  the  troopers,  swinging  straight  upon 
the  British  line  that  was  pressing  the  Continentals  to 
the  last  extremity. 

Almost  before  one  could  breathe  a  second  time  the 
horsemen  were  upon  the  infantry. 

It  was  like  the  impact  of  a  thunderbolt. 

''Be  steady  and  firm!"  cried  the  heroic  Stuart,  who 
commanded  the  English.  "Don't  let  the  rebel  horse- 
men drive  you  back." 

Rodney  and  Jack  kept  as  close  together  as  possible. 

They  saw  Washington  riding  at  the  head  of  his  le- 
gion like  a  real  god  of  battle,  his  saber  swinging  round 
'his  head  and  his  whole  soul  in  the  fray. 

The  clash  was  terrible.    In  vain  did  the  British  col- 


Guildford.  81 


umn  present  their  bayonets  to  the  maddened  riders, 
they  were  dashed  aside  and  the  ranks  forced. 

Nothing  could  stay  the  advance  of  those  sabering 
heroes  of  the  South. 

'That  officer  yonder!  Come!"  cried  Jack,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment.  'They  are  rallying  round 
the  colors.     Let  us  take  them !" 

He  turned  slightly  to  the  left  without  looking  for 
Rodney,  but  Rodney  had  heard  and  was  close  behind 
him. 

Jack  had  already  cut  one  soldier  down,  and  there 
wxre  drops  of  red  on  his  saber. 

In  a  mom^ent  they  were  upon  the  little  group  of 
twenty  men  who  had  rallied  round  the  colors. 

They  presented  their  warlike  front  to  the  troopers, 
and  stood  their  ground  like  heroes. 

Had  the  boy  patriots  tried  to  check  their  steeds  it  is 
doubtful  if  they  could  have  succeeded  before  they  were 
upon  the  group. 

*The  flag !  the  flag !"  they  both  shouted  in  unison. 

The  officer  who  clung  to  the  flagstaff  retreated  a 
step  and  looked  defiance  at  the  speakers. 

Others  were  rushing  to  the  rescue,  and  the  boys 
were  liable  to  be  surrounded. 

Jack  struck  at  the  officer,  but  his  saber  was  knocked 
aside  by  a  giant  grenadier,  who  parried  the  stroke  with 
his  musket,  and  the  boy  was  almost  thrown  from  the 
saddle. 


2l  Guildford. 


"The  flag !  We  must  have  the  colors !"  exclaimed 
Rodney. 

He  was  upon  the  little  group,  his  horse  plunging 
right  among  them,  while  his  blade  knocked  the  British 
captain's  hat  flying  from  his  head. 

In  another  moment  he  had  seized  the  flagstaff  and 
had  wrenched  it  by  main  force  from  the  hands  that 
would  have  preserved  it  from  capture. 

It  was  a  glorious  moment  for  the  boys  of  Carolina. 

As  they  wheeled  and  rode  back  they  were  met  by  a 
volley  of  grape  and  cannister,  for  Cornwallis,  seeing 
that  in  order  to  save  his  guards  from  annihilation  he 
must  shoot  into  friend  and  foe  alike,  so  intermingled 
were  they,  had  brought  up  his  artillery,  and  was  strew- 
ing the  ground  with  humanity. 

The  terrible  volleys  sent  from  the  brass  guns  turned 
the  tide  of  battle. 

The  brave  troopers  were  forced  back,  the  American 
infantry  reeled  from  the  shock^  and  the  iron  balls  con- 
tinued to  plow  through  their  ranks  like  engines  of 
destruction. 

A  moment  since  the  field  of  Guildford  was  won, 
now  it  was  irretrievably  lost. 

Such  is  the  fate  of  war. 

Rodney  and  Jack  were  borne  back  on  the  tide  of 
battle. 

The  former  still  clung  to  the  captured  colors,  while 
Jack  held  in  his  hand  a  colonel's  sword. 


Guildford.  83 


Lee  and  Campbell  on  the  left  still  maintained  the 
fight,  but  they  could  not  hold  out  long. 

Where  Washington's  troopers  had  ridden  the  ground 
was  literally  covered  with  redcoats. 

For  hours  the  battle  had  raged  among  the  sturdy 
trees,  and  the  ground  had  shaken  with  the  tread  of 
the  stubborn  legions. 

The  sun  sank  into  a  mass  of  clouds,  and  the  only 
noises  that  at  last  came  from  the  field  were  the  cries 
of  the  wounded. 

The  battle  of  Guildford  was  over. 

Gen.  Greene  reluctantly  gave  the  order  to  retreat, 
placing  his  brave  Virginians  as  a  rear  guard. 

Cornwallis  advanced  upon  this  line,  hoping  to  break 
it ;  but  the  Virginians  received  the  victors  with  such  a 
galling  fire  that  they  fell  back  in  disorder. 

They  did  not  try  it  again,  for  other  engagements 
had  told  the  British  commander  that  Greene  was  most 
dangerous  when  whipped. 

The  little  army  fell  back  to  its  old  encampments  at 
Reedy  Fork. 

It  had  been  defeated :  but  the  enemy  had  been  ter- 
ribly punished. 

Six  hundred  redcoats  lay  on  the  grass  and  leaves 
about  Guildford  Courthouse. 

Well  might  Fox  say  on  the  floor  of  Parliament, 
when  the  news  of  this  battle  reached  England : 

"Another  such  victory  will  ruin  the  British  army." 


84  Guildford. 


"Two  of  my  bravest !"  said  Gen.  Greene,  when  Jack 
and  Rodney  rode  up  to  his  tent,  one  with  the  captured 
colors  and  the  other  bearing  the  handsome  sword  he 
had  captured  in  fair  fight.  ''Had  I  had  heroes  Hke 
you  at  the  stone  fence  to-day  we  would  have  gained  a 
brilliant  victory.'* 

*'But  the  enemy  has  been  terribly  punished,  general/' 
said  Rodney.     "He  doesn't  even  growl." 

"No ;  we  pulled  too  many  of  his  teeth ;  he  cannot 
growl." 

The  boys  rode  back,  ready  for  the  next  adventure, 
which  was  to  be  of  a  different  nature,  and  as  exciting 
as  the  battle.  They  felt  that  it  was  something  to  serve 
under  the  banners  of  the  gallant  Greene. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN     INTERRUPTED     WELCOME. 

After  his  defeat  at  Guildford,  Gen.  Greene  resolved 
to  carry  the  war  into  South  CaroUna. 

The  British  followed,  but  with  caution,  for  it  was 
like  trailing  a  wounded  lion,  which  growls  all  the  time 
and  is  likely  to  turn  upon  his  hunters. 

Greene  at  times  turned  on  his  pursuers  and  in- 
flicted heavy  damage. 

Going  back  into  South  Carolina  pleased  Rodney  and 
Jack. 

They  would  soon  reach  ground  familiar  to  them 
both,  and  they  hoped  to  pay  off  some  old  scores  with 
the  Tories. 

Besides  this,  it  would  permit  them  to  be  near  Calla- 
way Manor,  where  both  Dora  and  Alice  were,  and 
they  feared  that  the  two  girls  would  need  at  times  the 
strength  of  their  protecting  arms. 

It  had  not  been  their  fortune  to  encounter  Capt.  Sam- 
son or  Red  Dan  at  Guildford,  for  they  did  not  come  in 
contact  with  Tarleton's  horse ;  but  now  that  they  were 
riding  south  they  felt  assured  that  they  would  soon 
meet  these  two  worthies  again. 

Callaway  Manor  was  a  large  estate,  which  had  been 
in  possession  of  the  house  many  years. 


86  An   Interrupted  Welcome. 

'  "■■—  ■  '    '  — — — ■   '  ■  ■    -I  -  -■  — ■  -1 1  -  1 11  ■III      k.t,ij 

Its  former  owners  had  beautified  it  until  it  was  one 
of  the  fairest  plantations  in  the  Palmetto  State,  the  old 
manor  house  standing  on  a  rise  back  of  a  grove  of 
stately  trees,  whose  shade  lent  a  cooling  freshness  to 
the  landscape. 

Being  near  it  one  dusk  Rodney  proposed  to  his 
friend  and  companion  a  ride  to  the  place,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  dismounted  in  front  of  the  long  vine- 
covered  porch,  which  was  supported  by  enormous 
columns. 

A  faithful  slave  first  discovered  them,  and  their  ar- 
rival was  the  signal  for  great  rejoicing. 

They  were  escorted  into  the  great  parlor,  where 
they  found  the  master  of  the  place  ready  to  greet  them. 

The  two  girls,  their  eyes  gleaming  with  pleasure, 
added  zest  to  the  welcome,  and  in  a  little  while  a 
sumptuous  repast  was  set  before  the  young  troopers. 

The  boys  had  much  to  tell,  the  marches  with  Greene, 
the  fierce  fight  at  Guildford,  in  which  they  had  taken 
such  a  prominent  part,  the  stubborn  retreat  into  South 
Carolina,  and  finally  the  hopes  of  soon  seeing  the  end 
of  the  war  with  the  establishment  of  a  new  nation  de- 
voted to  freedom  in  North  Am.erica. 

In  the  midst  of  Rodney's  recital  of  an  incident  of 
the  retreat  a  darky  bounded  into  the  dining  room,  his 
eyes  rolling  in  fright  and  his  breath  no  longer  at  his 
command. 

"De — Tories !   dey  am  comin'   down  de  road !"  he 


An    Interrupted  Welcome.  87 


finally  made  out  to  say.     "Dey  am  a  thousand  strong, 
an'  dey  come  fo'  the  young  dragoons !" 

In  an  instant  everyone  left  the  table,  and  the  boys, 
seizing  their  weapons,  bolted  for  the  door. 

The  night  had  not  fairly  settled  over  the  scene,  for 
objects  were  discernible  some  distance  away. 

One  glance  was  enough. 

The  road  leading  past  the  house  and  between  it  and 
the  first  line  of  trees,  seemed  full  of  men. 

The  jingle  of  warlike  weapons  was  distinctly  heard, 
and  after  a  look  the  door  was  closed. 

*Ts  it  Tarleton?"  asked  Thomas  Callaway. 

*T  think  not.  Col.  Tarleton  can  hardly  be  in  this 
neighborhood  just  now.  It  may  be  a  band  of  Tories  led 
by  some  such  fellow  as  Capt.  Samson " 

"Or  Red  Dan." 

*We  shall  soon  see." 

Almost  before  the  last  words  had  left  Rodney's  lips 
the  band  halted  in  front  of  the  mansion  and  a  part  of  it, 
separating,  rode  round  it,  forming  in  a  moment  a  cor- 
don of  living  humanity. 

Silence  reigned  within  the  manor  house. 

*'Come  out  and  surrender !"  called  a  loud  voice.  "We 
have  you  all  in  a  trap.  Come  out  or  take  the  conse- 
quences !" 

Before  he  could  be  restrained,  Thomas  Callaway 
opened  the  door  and  stepped  bodly  upon  the  porch. 

At  sight  of  him  a  shout  of  derision  cleft  the  air. 


88  An    Interrupted  Welcome. 


"The  old  lion  himself!"  laughed  the  leader  of  the 
Tories.    "Where  are  the  cubs  ?" 

"What  is  wanted?" 

**We  want  the  young  rebels  whom  you  harbor,  that's 
what  we're  here  for." 

"You  mean " 

"Come !  No  words  spoken  for  time  !  We'll  not  put 
up  with  delay.    Trot  out  the  rebel  whelps,  I  say !" 

"You  must  be  mistaken.     You " 

"We  trailed  them  here,  and  they're  inside,"  was  the 
unceremonious  interruption. 

"Men,  I  trust  you  won't  inflict  any  indignities  upon 
the  young  ladies  under  my  care." 

"We  won't  do  more  than  look  at  the  beauties  per- 
haps, but  we  want  the  rebel  cubs." 

Rodney  and  Jack  quivered  with  indignation  behind 
the  heavy  oaken  door. 

"Will  you  surrender  them?"  demanded  the  heavily 
bearded  leader  of  the  forayers.  "We  can't  remain  here 
all  night  in  a  fruitless  parley." 

Callaway's  blood  boiled  in  his  veins. 

"Then,"  he  cried,  "if  you  want  the  guests  of  Calla- 
way Manor  you  must  come  and  take  them !" 

This  defiance  sent  a  cry  heavenward  from  the  throats 
of  the  men  in  the  road. 

"And  we'll  take  'em,  too  1" 

The  master  of  the  manor  turned  and  re-entered  the 
mansion. 


An    Interrupted  Welcome.  89 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him  a  heavy  plank  shot 
into  its  place,  and  the  portal  was  barricaded  against  the 
enemy. 

A  few  moments  of  most  painful  silence  followed  this 
act,  and  then  the  troopers  outside  sent  up  a  chorus  of 
maddening  yells. 

''You  will  defy  the  king,  eh?"  they  cried. 

Silence,  which  meant  ''yes,"  was  the  only  reply. 

Those  inside  heard  a  command  as  it  was  spoken  by 
the  leader  of  the  Tory  band,  and  all  withdrew  a  short 
distance. 

Suddenly  the  stillness  outside  was  broken  by  a  vol- 
lev,  and  bullets  hurtled  throus^h  the  shutters,  to  strike 
the  wall  beyond  with  dismal  thuds. 

The  girls  stood  erect,  refusing  to  retire  to  a  place 
of  safety,  and  Thomas  Callaway,  who  had  vanished  for 
a  moment,  came  back  with  an  armload  of  loaded  mus- 
kets. 

"We  are  prepared  for  a  pretty  good  siege,  you  see," 
he  said,  with  a  smile  to  the  two  boys.  "They  will  have 
some  sport  taking  Fort  Callaway,  I'm  thinking." 

In  a  little  while  the  demand  for  surrender  was  re- 
peated, but  it  met  with  a  stern  refusal. 

"How  many  are  out  there?"  queried  Jack. 

"I  think  I  counted  twenty-six  in  front  of  the  house, 
but  there  are  others  behind  it." 

"And  we  are  five." 

"Do  you  want  to  be  smoked  out?" 


90  An   Interrupted  Welcome. 

This  was  the  usual  Tory  threat,  for  men  of  Capt. 
Samson's  ilk  did  not  hesitate  to  apply  the  torch,  no 
matter  if  women  and  children  were  in  jeopardy. 

"Cowards,  do  you  worst!"  answered  Mr,  Callaway, 
with  his  lips  at  the  door.  *'We  don't  expect  mercy 
from  a  band  of  Tory  cutthroats !" 

Fearful  that  the  fire,  if  started  at  all,  would  begin 
in  the  rear  of  the  house  among  the  smaller  buildings, 
Rodney  ran  through  the  room  and  sought  a  window 
in  the  kitchen. 

Halting  there,  rifle  in  hand,  he  looked  out  upon  the 
gathering  shadows. 

A  man  was  creeping  toward  the  manor  house  like 
an  Indian. 

He  bellied  the  ground  like  a  panther,  wriggling  his 
way  forward  through  the  low  bushes. 

Rodney  raised  the  lower  sash  without  noise  and 
waited. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  man. 

When  near  the  house  he  drew  something  from  his 
bosom  and  struck  his  flint. 

A  little  spark  no  larger  than  a  pea  leaped  up,  then 
the  tow  caught. 

The  hand  of  the  boy  ranger  clutched  the  gun  more 
firmly. 

He  rested  it  upon  the  sash,  and,  taking  aim  at  the 
crouching  figure,  touched  the  trigger. 


An   Interrupted  Welcome.  91 

Tlie  report  was  followed  by  a  cry,  and  the  man  leaped 
into  the  air  and  fell  among  the  bushes. 

"One  Tory  less,  I  trust,"  said  Rodney,  as  he  ran 
back  to  report  his  success. 

The  shot  was  followed  by  a  number  of  revengeful 
cries,  and  another  volley  was  poured  through  the  front 
windows,  fortunately  inflicting  no  injuries  on  the  be- 
sieged. 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  Jack,  as  the  sound  of  an 
ax  reverberated  through  the  manor. 

"They  are  felling  one  of  the  younger  trees." 

'Tor  a  battering  ram.     They  will  storm  the  door!" 

Thomas  Callaway  set  his  teeth  hard,  but  did  not 
speak. 

He  knew  that  the  door,  despite  the  barricade,  could 
not  long  resist  a  battering  ram  in  the  hands  of  ten 
or  twenty  determined  men. 

"It  is  a  fight  to  the  finish,"  he  said  at  last,  as  he 
looked  at  the  boys.  "Callaway  Manor  shall  not  be  sur- 
rendered so  long  as  its  master  lives." 

"That's  right ;  and  you  will  find  us  with  you  to  the 
bitter  end,"  was  the  response. 

One  of  the  girls,  who  had  been  stationed  at  the 
kitchen  window,  reported  that  everything  was  quiet 
in  that  direction. 

The  summary  death  of  the  incendiary  seemed  to  have 
quieted  the  marauders  on  that  side  of  the  house. 

The  making  of  the  battering  ram  went  on. 


92  An    Interrupted  Welcome. 

Each  blow  of  the  ax  seemed  to  shorten  the  doom  of 
the  devoted  defenders  of  the  manor. 

At  last  the  strokes  ceased. 

The  terrible   weapon   was   finished. 

"Now,  for  the  last  time,  we  demand  your  surrender," 
came  from  without. 

''Clearly  that  was  Capt.  Samson's  voice,"  said 
Rodney. 

"Yes  ;  I  am  Capt.  Samson.  I  am  the  man  who  wants 
to  settle  with  you  young  rebel  cubs.  For  the  last  time, 
I  say,  will  you  surrender  ?'' 

"For  the  last  time,  no !" 

Capt.  Samson  withdrew. 

"It  will  come  now,"  said  Thomas  Callaway,  as  he 
picked  up  one  of  the  muskets  and  made  ready  for  a 
stubborn  defense. 

Sure  enough,  it  did  come,  for  all  at  once  there  came 
to  the  alert  ears  of  the  besieged  the  tramping  of  many 
feet  on  the  porch  and  a  blow  that  seemed  to  twist  the 
door  on  its  heavy  hinges. 

But  the  barricade  did  not  yield. 

Three  rifles  were  thrust  through  openings  in  the 
shutters  and  flashed  in  the  faces  of  the  men  on  the 
porch. 

There  were  cries  of  mortal  pain,  horrible  curses  and 
imprecations  of  all  kinds. 

The  volley  had  told. 

Then  came  a  shuffling  of  feet  on  the  porch  and  next 


An   Interrupted  Welcome.  93 

another  rush,  the  long  timber  crashing  against  the 
door  and  knocking  one  of  the  irons  that  held  the  barri- 
cade to  the  floor. 

The  critical  moment  had  arrived. 

All  saw  that  another  attack  would  send  the  door 
from  its  hinges,  and  that  the  house  would  swarm  with 
the  enemy. 

Yet  there  was  no  sign  of  yielding. 

''Quick !"  shouted  Thomas  Callaway,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "the  powder!  Spring  the  mine,  and  let  all, 
friend,  and  foe,  perish  together!" 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    FIRE    IN    THE    REAR. 

The  command  which  the  stern  old  Whig  uttered 
with  such  emphasis  was  intended  to  convey  the  im- 
pression to  the  enemy  outside  that  the  house,  or  at 
least  a  portion  of  it,  had  been  undermined  for  a  dire 
emergency,  and  that  a  spark  would  send  it  hurtling 
into  the  air,  burying  in  its  ruins  friend  and  foe  alike. 

A  startling  silence  followed  the  words. 

Then  there  was  a  hasty  scrambling  from  the  porch, 
the  Tories  in  their  haste  fairly  tumbling  over  one  an- 
other in  their  eagerness  to  escape  the  peril  they  thought 
awaited  them. 

"They're  gone !"  exclaimed  Miss  Alice.  'The  threat 
shows  that  a  Tory  is,  after  all,  afraid  of  gunpowder.'' 

A  smile  wreathed  the  lips  of  the  old  master  of  the 
manor. 

''Now  for  a  breathing  spell,"  said  he.  'We  can  re- 
pair the  damage  to  the  door." 

The  missing  staple  was  found  on  the  floor  and  driven 
into  a  new  place  in  the  heavy  oaken  frame,  the  barri- 
cade was  replaced,  and  the  door  made  as  stout  as 
possible. 

The  two  boys  knew  that  their  horses  had  fallen  into 
Capt.  Samson's  possession ;  but  they  were  still  uncap- 


The  Fire  in  the  Rear.  95 

tured,  and  hoped  to  give  the  murderous  band  the  best 
fight  possible. 

For  some  little  time  silence  reigned  around  the  manor 
house. 

"If  we  were  outside  with  some  of  the  legion  there 
would  be  a  great  scampering  of  Tories,"  said  Rodney. 

"As  you  say  that  Lee  is  not  far  away,  it  is  possible 
that  he  may  have  heard  the  firing  and  will  come  to  our 
rescue." 

"He  will  surely  ride  this  way  if  the  firing  has  reached 
his  ears,  Mistress  Alice." 

"Let  us  hope  that  it  has." 

By  this  time  there  seemed  to  be  a  reaction  of  senti- 
ment  on  the  foe's  part. 

They  appeared  to  have  seen  through  the  ruse  which 
had  chased  them  back,  and  now  they  came  on  again. 

"Will  you  not  -surrender  and  spare  the  effusion  of 
blood?''  asked  Capt.   Samson. 

"Why  surrender  to  you?"  was  the  response. 

"Because  you  are  greatly  outnumbered." 

"Callaway  Manor  is  a  fort  that  will  be  defended  tc> 
the  last  extremity!" 

"Then  the  mercy  you  may  get  by  submitting  may 
not  be  tendered  at  all." 

'Mercy  is  not  expected." 

'Just  as  you  will,"  growled  the  Tory  captain. 

'I  think  if  we  were  only  outside  we  could  soon  put 
a  different  face  on  affairs,"  whispered  Rodney,  at  this 


iC] 


tf 


tn 


^6  The  Fire  in  the  Rear. 

juncture.     *'The  house  is  surely  watched  on  all  sides, 

and  it  might  be  difficult  to  get  through  the  enemy's 

lines,  but " 

"Very  well — if  you  are  willing  to  try  your  stratagem 

you  shall  have  a  chance/'  responded  Thomas  Callaway. 

""There  is  the  underground  passage " 

"Is  there  such  a  thing  connected  with  the  manor?" 
"There  is ;  but  it  has  not  been  used  during  the  war 

that  I  know  of." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"Alice  will  show  you." 

The  young  girl  turned  away  and  left  the  room,  fol- 
lowed by  the  two  boys. 

Mr.  Callaway  and  Dora  were  left  to  hold  the  foe  at 
bay  in  a  parley  as  long  as  possible. 

Alice  Callaway  descended  steps  into  the  cellar,  car- 
rying a  light  in  her  hand. 

Traversing  the  wine  vaults,  she  came  to  a  door  set 
in  the  wall. 

"There  is  the  passage,"  said  she.  "It  terminates  un- 
derneath the  spring  house,  where  there  is  a  door  in 
the  floor.  The  passageway  is  very  ancient,  for  it  was 
there  long  before  father  was  born,  having  been  built, 
it  is  supposed,  by  old  Audran  Callaway,  who  fought 
tmder  Cromwell.  He  may  have  built  it  for  safety 
from  the  Indians,  but  of  that  we  are  not  certain." 

Rodney  caught  hold  of  the  iron  ring  which  was  set 


The  Fire  in  the  Rear.  97 

in  the  door  of  the  passageway  and,  by  main  strength, 
pulled  it  open. 

A  dark,  cavernous  opening  yawned  in  his  face. 

Alice  held  the  light,  so  that  its  rays  revealed  a  flight 
of  steps,  which  seemed  to  lead  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth,  but  which,  in  fact,  did  not  lead  very  far  down. 

''Now,  bring  three  or  four  muskets  hither,  Jack," 
said  the  boy  blacksmith.  "We  will  treat  these  Tories 
to  a  fire  in  the  rear,  something  they  have  never  yet 
been  known  to  stand." 

Jack  bounded  back  to  the  room  where  Mr.  Callaway 
and  Dora  stood,  and  returned  with  four  guns. 

**You  will  shut  the  door  behind  us,"  Rodney  said  to 
Alice.  "We  will  find  the  door  at  the  other  end  of  the 
tunnel.  Keep  up  a  stout  heart,  and  if  we  do  not  outwit 
Capt.  Samson  and  his  band  it  will  not  be  our  fault." 

The  boy  partisans  now  plunged  into  the  tunnel,  and 
Alice  pushed  the  heavy  door  back  to  its  place. 

Then  she  listened  a  while  and  heard  faint  sounds  be- 
yond the  portal,  which  told  her  that  the  daring  young 
Whigs  were  gliding  through  the  darkness  under- 
ground, bent  on  the  stratagem  they  had  in  view. 

"It's  as  dark  as  Eg>'pt  in  here,"  said  Rodney,  as  he 
guided  himself  by  keeping  a  hand  on  the  cold  wall. 
'Darker  even  than  that,"  was  the  reply  behind  him. 
'Never  mind,  we  must  play  our  hand  out.    Remem- 
ber, that  we  are  dealing  with  Capt.  Samson." 

"Just  as  if  I  could  forget  it  for  a  moment." 


<<i 


<<i 


98  The  Fire  in  the  Rear. 

Down  the  tunnel  the  boys  made  their  way,  keeping  as 
close  together  as  possible,  and  each  bore  his  share  of 
the  muskets  and  extra  ammunition. 

The  old  passage  seemed  endless. 

At  last,  however,  they  reached  the  end  of  the  tunnel, 
for  they  were  stopped  by  a  solid  wall. 

*We  must  be  underneath  the  spring  house." 

'It  would  seem  so,  for  this  is  the  end  of  the  tunnel." 

Rodney  felt  overhead  and  moved  his  hand  over  a 
great  flat  stone. 

'I've   found  the  trap,"  he  whispered  to  his  com- 


<<i 


«i 


<<T>_ 


panion. 

"That's  good  luck." 

"Now,  with  me,  place  your  shoulders  against  the 
stone  and  we  will  see  if  we  can  raise  it." 

The  boys  drew  close  together,  and  placing  their 
strong  shoulders  against  the  stone  above  them,  exerted 
all  their  strength  and  found  that  it  moved. 

Another  trial  and  it  fell  backward,  and  they  drew 
themselves  out  of  the  pit. 

The  muskets  were  pulled  out  after  them,  and  they 
stood  free  again. 

The  old  spring  house  was  about  two  hundred  yards 
from  the  manor  house,  and  stood  among  a  lot  of  trees. 

The  boys  did  not  take  time  to  inspect  their  sur- 
roundings. 

As  they  hastened  toward  Callaway  Manor  they  sud- 


The  Fire  in  the  Rear.  99 

denly  stopped,  for  there  were  shouts  of  triumph  in  that 
direction. 

*'The  demons  have  fired  the  house  !    Look,  Jack  !'* 

This  seemed  true,  for  a  tongue  of  flame  had  leaped 
heavenward,  and  as  it  gathered  in  volume  the  boys 
stood  transfixed  with  horror,  as  it  seemed. 

''The  brutes  I"  hissed  Jack.  ''Come,  we  may  not 
be  too  late." 

They  sprang  forward  with  the  agility  of  young  pan- 
thers, and  soon  gained  a  place  in  the  enemy's  rear. 

*'Now  let  them  have  it !"  said  Rodney.  "Fire  the 
muskets  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and  I  will  do  the  rest." 

The  boys  discharged  the  muskets  one  after  the  other, 
and  Rodney's  voice  was  heard  above  the  din  : 

"Forward,  Virginians !  No  mercy  to  the  Tories  of 
the  Carolinas  !    America  forever !" 

The  effect  was  electrical. 

In  a  moment  there  were  signs  of  skurrying  in  front 
of  the  manor  house,  and  men  were  heard  flying  in  all 
directions. 

A  fire  in  the  rear  was  something  the  Tories  of  the 
Revolution  could  not  stand. 

"Forward !  Death  to  the  villains  of  the  South !" 
Rodney  continued  to  cry  out. 

Some  more  shots  were  fired  from  the  muskets,  and 
as  the  boys  dashed  forward  they  found  no  one  to  op- 
pose them., 

There   still  rung  in  their  ears  sounds  of  flight  as 


lOO  The  Fire  in  the  Rear. 

Capt.  Samson  and  his  band  urged  their  horses  from 
the  scene  of  the  unexpected  attack. 

The  boys  were  on  the  porch  in  a  little  while. 

"Look!  The  door  is  beaten  in!"  exclaimed  Jack, 
**Can  it  be  that  the  enemy  has  accomplished  his  pur- 
pose ?" 

They  stopped  a  second  at  the  door,  which  swung 
brokenly  from  its  hinges,  while  behind  the  house  the 
flames  were  creeping  upward  in  their  eagerness  to 
leave  it  a  heap  of  ashes. 

"Where  are  you,  friends?"  cried  Rodney,  halting  in 
the  dark  and  the  silence. 

There  was  no  response. 

The  boys  now  threw  open  the  doors  that  led  from 
the  room  into  the  chambers,  and  this  let  a  flood  of  fire- 
light into  the  place. 

"They  are  gone!    Capt.  Samson  has  captured  all!" 

It  seemed  indeed  true,  for  certain  signs  showed  that 
a  desperate  struggle  had  taken  place  in  the  parlor,  but 
Mr.  Callaway  and  the  two  girls  were  missing. 

"We  must  have  been  just  a  few  seconds  too  late," 
said  Rodney,  with  a  sigh. 

"It  looks  so." 

It  now  became  the  boys'  duty  to  save  the  grand  old 
house,  and  in  this  they  were  assisted  by  some  of  the 
slaves,  who  had  returned  from  hiding  from  the  Tory 
band.    By  persistent  efforts  on  the  part  of  all  the  fire 


The  Fire  in  the   Rear.  loi 


was  subdued,  and  nothing  but  a  few  charred  planks 
showed  where  it  had  gnawed  its  mad  way. 

Afoot,  with  their  friends  in  the  hands  of  Capt.  Sam- 
son, Rodney  and  Jack  feh  the  sting  of  rage  and  keen 
disappointment. 

The  slaves  told  them  how  the  Tories  had  ridden  off 
when  the  attack  in  the  rear  began,  and  how  they  had 
previously  rushed  the  house,  despite  the  defense  put 
up  by  those  inside. 

"They  must  be  followed !"  exclaimed  Rodney.  "Capt. 
Samson  must  not  boast  of  his  triumph  long." 

"But  the  horses?" 

Not  a  horse  had  been  left  on  the  premises  by  the 
enemy. 

Cupe,  the  head  slave,  a  giant  darky,  and  one  de- 
votedly attached  to  his  master,  volunteered  to  assist 
the  boys  in  their  pursuit ;  but  it  was  feared  that  but 
little  headwav  could  be  made  without  horses. 

The  Tories  had  taken  the  road  leading  across  the 
country,  and  which,  three  miles  away,  struck  a  river, 
barely  fordable. 

Pursuit  seemed  almost  out  of  the  question,  but  the 
boys  were  not  to  be  discouraged. 

It  was  feared  that  the  life  of  Thomas  Callaway  was 
in  danger,  for  he  had  been  such  a  pronounced  enemy 
of  the  king,  and  on  several  occasions  had  rendered 
Marion  a  good  deal  of  assistance. 

This  had  rendered  him  a  marked  man  by  the  British 


I02  The  Fire  in  the  Rear. 

— -    —  ■    ■■    '■■- — - —  ■  ■  ■  II— 1^^ 

and  Tories,  and  we  have  already  seen  how  near  death 
he  had  been  while  a  prisoner  in  their  hands. 

"Horses  or  no  horses,  we  must  follow  them!"  cried 
Rodney. 

"I  am  with  you,  of  course,  but " 

^  Well  ?" 


<( 


'Are  there  no  Tory  horses  near  by  ?  Who  owns  the 
next  plantation,  Cupe?" 

"Massa  Brunix." 

"Whig  or  Tory  ?" 

"Him  no  say  much." 

"Then  he  is  not  Whig." 

"Him  keep  mighty  still  dese  days." 

"Which  means  that  he  sympathizes  with  the  king. 
Has  he  any  horses?" 

"De  bes'  in  de  deestrick." 

"Show  us  the  way  to  Mr.  Brunix's." 

Cupe  was  delighted  to  do  this,  for  he  had  no  love 
for  the  man  he  had  mentioned. 

The  three  reached  the  Brunix  stables  in  a  short  run. 

They  stood  well  secluded,  and  the  darky  led  the  way 
to  the  door. 

"If  Brunix  is  Whig,  he  will  have  no  horses,"  said 
Rodney.     "If  Tory,  we  will  find  them  in  the  stables." 

It  did  not  take  long  to  open  the  stable  door. 

"Horses  galore!"  exclaimed  Jack,  who  was  the  first 
to  enter. 

"That  settles  Mr.  Brunix's  politics,"  was  the  reply. 


The  Fire  in  the  Rear.  103 


and  in  a  few  moments  three  steeds  were  saddled  and 
led  forth. 

The  trio  mounted  and  a  musket  was  placed  in  Cupe's 
hands. 

"Forward !"  cried  Rodney.  "No  rest  now  till  we've 
found  Capt.  Samson  and  his  band." 

The  animals,  eager  to  get  out  of  the  stables,  bounded 
forward  like  Roman  racers,  and  the  trio  soon  struck 
the  Tory  trail. 

'They  will  make  for  the  ford — the  upper  one  being 
nearest,"  remarked  Rodney. 

"Why  not  strike  across  country  and  make  the  ford 
first?" 

"That's  it." 

This  was  done,  and  after  some  hard  riding,  the  pur- 
suers reached  the  ford.  Rodney  dismounted  and  ex- 
amined the  ground. 

"I  fear  we  have  missed  it.  No  one  has  been  here 
to-night." 


CHAPTER   XL 

A     SERIOUS     TIME     FOR     RED     DAN, 

About  the  hour  of  the  last  assault  on  Callaway 
Manor  by  Capt.  Samson  and  his  desperate  band  of 
Tories,  a  man  raised  the  flap  of  Gen.  Greene's  well- 
worn  tent  and  entered  without  ceremony. 

The  general  was  alone. 

He  had  given  himself  little  rest  since  the  battle  of 
Guildford,  and  his  men  were  well  spent  by  the  march 
since  their  last  encounter  with  the  enemy. 

As  the  man  made  his  appearance  Gen.  Green  looked 
up  and  seemed  to  study  him  for  a  moment. 

"Well,  you  see,  general,"  cried  the  swarthy-looking 
man,  "a  man  can  even  escape  death  after  they  have 
noosed  him." 

"I  don't  quite  understand,  sir." 

**Oh,  I  am  old  Jackson,  the  blacksmith."' 

"You?     I  thought " 

*T  thought  so,  too,  at  one  time,"  interrupted  the  other, 
with  a  grin. 

'The  report  is  that  they  hanged  you." 

'So  they  did." 

'But  you're  alive." 

'I  feel  that  way,  general ;  really,  I  do,  though  there's 


<<( 


((1 


«i 


A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan.  105 

a  little  soreness  here,"  and  the  speaker  put  his  hand 
under  his  chin. 

''They  swooped  down  upon  me  like  a  pack  of  eagles," 
he  went  on.  "They  took  me  completely  by  surprise, 
and  they  wanted  me  to  sharpen  some  Tory  swords, 
which  I  would  not  do." 

"You  braved  them,  did  you  ?" 

"Yes ;  I  told  them  the  day  had  gone  by  when  I  sharp- 
ened swords  for  the  enemies  of  liberty." 

'T  admire  your  pluck,  sir." 

*Tt  cost  me  dearly.  They  destroyed  my  tools,  or 
carried  them  off,  then  they  seized  my  niece,  Mistress 
Dora,  and  carried  me  to  the  big  oak  near  the  creek, 
where  they  proceeded  to  make  short  work  of  me." 

"But  failed?" 

"It  wasn't  their  fault  that  they  failed.  I  was  swung 
up  to  the  limb  and  left  there  with  a  Tory  rope  round 
my  neck.     But  old  Jackson's  time  hadn't  come  yet/' 

"That's  good!" 

"I  was  rescued  in  the  nick  of  time  by  a  negro.  I  was 
cut  down,  after  which  I  left  a  note  of  vengeance  and 
warning  nailed  to  the  oak.    I  hope  they've  seen  it." 

The  old  blacksmith's  eyes  had  a  baleful  glitter. 

"I've  been  back  to  the  house ;  but  I  can  find  nothing 
of  Dora.    I  suppose  they  carried  her  off." 

They  left  her  bound  in  the  house,  I  believe." 

'So  you've  heard  of  the  raid?" 

T  was  told  by  a  boy,  who  belongs  to  my  command," 


<<' 


<<( 


iC\ 


io6  A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan. 

answered  Greene,  and  he  proceeded  and  narrated  the 
story  which  Rodney  had  imparted  to  him. 

The  old  man  Hstened  attentively. 

"There's  good  stuff  in  that  boy !"  he  exclaimed,  with 
?  enthusiasm.  "He  hasn't  handled  the  sledge  for  noth- 
ing. Give  him  a  chance  and  he  will  show  the  enemies 
of  freedom  a  thing  or  two." 

"He  acquitted  him  well  at  Guilford.  He  captured 
some  colors  there." 

"Good !    Now,  general,  I  am  out  for  revenge." 

"You  have  my  best  wishes  in  that  direction,  I  assure 
you." 

"I  want  first  to  find  Dora,  and  afterwards  to  come 
across  the  young  rascal  who  led  the  Tories  that  night." 

"You  recognized  him?  I  thought  they  were  all 
masked  ?" 

"You  can't  fool  me  on  a  voice." 

"Then " 

''Their  leader  was  Red  Dan  Jeffrys." 

*'A  bad  young  blade,  I  hear." 

"One  of  the  worst  ever  whelped  in  South  Carolina/* 

"And  you  would  like  to  see  him?" 

"It  is  my  sole  wish  just  now." 

The  American  general  seemed  to  reflect  a  moment. 

"I  might  gratify  your  whim  under  certain  condi- 
tions." 

'What !  do  you  know  where  he  is  ?" 

"He  is  a  prisoner  at  this  hour  in  my  camp." 


A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan.  107 


Old  Jackson  gave  vent  to  a  prolonged  whistle. 

"He  was  captured  last  night  inside  our  lines." 

"As  a  spy?" 

"That  is  to  be  determined  by  a  court-martial." 

"Who  caught  him,  general?" 

"Some  scouts  of  Lee's  Legion." 

"Where  is  the  young  wolf?" 

"Gen.  Lee  is  guarding  him,  I  believe." 

"Might  I  see  him?" 

"Under  certain  circumstances." 

"Name  them,  your  excellency." 

"You  must  remember  that  he  is  my  captive." 

"Yes." 

"And  you  are  not  to  injure  him  while  he  remains 
such." 

"I  want  to  know  what  they  did  with  Dora " 

"Oh,  she's  safe  at  Callaway  Manor." 

"Then,  I'll  want  to  find  out  what  they  did  with 
some  important  papers  I've  been  treasuring  for  years." 

"You  can  ask  him." 

The  next  moment  Greene  bent  over  his  little  camp 
table  and  wrote  hurriedly  for  a  short  time. 

When  he  finished  he  handed  the  paper  to  Jackson. 

"Take  this  to  Lee  and  he  will  let  you  see  the  pris- 


oner." 


The  blacksmith  took  the  document  and  saluted  in  a 
rough  manner. 

As  he  was  about  to  quit  the  tent  Greene  said : 


lo8         A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan. 

"What  are  your  plans  now  ?" 

**I  want  service  under  your  excellency,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "I've  got  an  arm  that  can  drive  a  sword  through 
any  British  head  in  the  army." 

"I  don't  doubt  that,  Jackson.  We  need  such  men  as 
you,  and  you  may  consider  yourself  one  of  us." 

The  old  man  bowed  and  smiled. 

He  disappeared  with  the  permit. 

Ten  minutes  later  it  was  in  the  hands  of  Lee. 

A  soldier  was  detailed  to  escort  the  blacksmith  to  a 
little  log  shanty,  before  which  a  soldier  paced  wath  a 
musket  on  his  ragged  shoulder. 

The  door  of  the  hut  was  secured  with  a  chain  and 
staple,  but  it  was  opened  to  the  old  man. 

A  candle  was  produced  by  the  guard  and  lighted 
within  the  shanty. 

As  Jackson  entered,  a  man  who  had  been  lying  on 
some  straw  rose  and  confronted  him. 

"They've  no  right  to  treat  me  thus,"  he  said,  in  the 
voice  of  a  bully. 

It  was  Red  Dan,  and  his  appearance  had  suffered 
a  good  deal  since  his  brief  imprisonment. 

But  the  moment  he  looked  into  Jackson's  face  he 
fell  back  to  the  w^all  and  stared  at  him. 

"You  know  me,"  said  the  old  smith.  "A  hanged  man 
doesn't  always  die  underneath  the  limb." 

The  young  Tory  was  speechless  from  amazement. 

"Oh,  I'm  no  ghost,  but  flesh  and  blood,"  continued 


A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan.  109 

the  blacksmith.  *'You  should  have  remained  under  the 
oak  and  seen  your  work  well  done." 

"I — I  thought  we  had  done  it  well?" 

"Oh,  no.  You  only  sowed  the  seed  of  vengeance, 
that's  all." 

"But  why  are  you  here?" 

"For  a  purpose.  Now,  Mr.  Jeffrys,  I  want  to  know 
what  you  did  with  the  papers  in  the  old  chest  in  the 
garret  ?" 

"What  were  they  to  me?" 

"That's  not  answering  my  question.  They  were  im- 
portant to  me,  as  you  evidently  knew  before  you 
swooped  down  upon  the  nest.  Those  very  papers  were 
wanted  by  you,  and  helped  to  arm  you  for  your  das- 
tardly work." 

"And  you  would  like  to  have  them,  I  suppose?" 

"I  intend  to  recover  them." 

"When  ?" 

"As  soon  as  possible,  and  at  whatever  cost.  They 
are  documents  which  prove  Dora's  claim  to  a  large  es- 
tate in  England.  Now,  look  here,  Mr.  Jeffrys,  you 
knew  that  if  those  papers  were  out  of  our  hands  and 
in  the  hands  of  certain  parties  across  the  water  she 
would  lose  what  rightfully  belongs  to  her." 

"How  could  I  know  that?" 

"Your  father  was  possessed  of  the  information,  and 
I  hear  that  you  boasted  that  you  would  deprive  the 
girl  of  her  rights  because  she  was  old  Jackson's  niece." 


no         A  Serious   Time  for  Red  Dan. 

Red  Dan  frowned  and  walked  away. 

"Where  are  those  papers?"  demanded  the  old  man, 
clinching  his  fists. 

"Find  them !" 

"You  cowardly  wretch,  do  you  want  to  test  my  pa- 
tience?" roared  the  blacksmith.  "I've  given  my  pledge 
to  Gen.  Greene  not  to  harm  you,  because  you  are  an  im- 
portant prisoner,  but " 

There  was  danger  in  the  old  Whig's  eyes,  and  that  is 
what  frightened  the  young  Tory  for  a  moment. 

"But  I  may  break  my  word  with  him,"  finished  Jack- 
son.   "I  want  those  papers.    I  intend  to  have  them !" 

"Very  well.  If  you  will  get  me  out  of  this  snap  I 
will  see  that  you  are  accommodated." 

"That's  clever,  now.  isn't  it?  You  know  your  pre- 
cious neck  is  in  peril,  and  I  suppose  you  would  do  any- 
thing to  save  it.  But  I  couldn't  trust  you  out  of  my 
sight." 

"Don't  try  to  if  that  is  your  opinion  of  Dan  Jef- 
frys,"  was  the  retort. 

"You  will  not  tell  me  where  the  documents  are?" 

"Not  without  I'm  set  free." 

"They  charge  you  with  being  inside  their  lines,  and 
they  are  going  to  try  you  for  a  spy." 

"Well  ?" 

"You  know  what  they  did  with  Major  Andre,  and 
this  same  Gen.  Greene  is  the  man  who  was  president 
of  that  court-martial." 


A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan.  1 1 1 

'1  know  that." 

"He  hates  spies." 

Red  Dan  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  looked  at  Jack- 
son from  his  place  against  the  wall. 

"Get  me  out  of  this  and  then  the  papers  will  be 
talked  about." 

*'I  can't  set  you  free,  and  even  if  I  could,  do  you 
think  for  a  moment  that  I  have  forgotten  the  scene 
beneath  the  big  oak?" 

"That's  pretty  hard  to  forget,  I'll  admit." 

"Especially  when  my  throat  is  still  sore  from  the 
choking." 

"Then  I  guess  we  can't  treat,"  growled  Red  Dan. 

"I  guess  I'll  know  before  I  leave  this  place  what 
you  did  with  the  papers." 

"You  will,  eh  ?" 

The  following  moment,  and  before  the  young  Tory 
could  guard  against  him,  Jackson  flung  himself  for- 
ward, and,  catching  the  prisoner  by  the  throat,  pressed 
him  against  the  wall. 

The  door  had  been  closed  after  his  entrance,  and  the 
guard,  deeming  everything  safe,  had  stepped  aside  a 
few  feet. 

The  attack  was  so  sudden  that  Red  Dan,  finding  him- 
self in  the  clutches  of  this  giant,  could  not  resist. 

Jackson  seemed  to  press  him  into  the  logs  at  his 
back. 

Tell  me!"  he  hissed  in  Red  Dan's  ear.     "Tell  me 


<<' 


112  A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan. 

where  the  documents  are,  or  Gen.  Greene  will  never 
get  to  string  you  up." 

"I— I " 

''Don't  tell  me  you  don't  know,  for  you  do.  They  fell 
into  your  hands,  for  no  one  else  in  your  band  wanted 
them,  or  knew  of  their  existence." 

The  hands  seemed  to  sink  deeper  and  deeper  into 
Red  Dan's  throat. 

**What  became  of  the  papers?"  demanded  Jackson 
again. 

''Release — me — and " 

"You'll  tell,  eh?"  and  the  great  blackish  fingers  re- 
laxed their  hold  a  little. 

"Now,  sir,  tell  the  truth." 

Red  Dan  breathed  freer. 

As  he  twisted  his  precious  neck  half  free  a  loud 
cry  welled  from  his  throat. 

"Help!  murder!  murder!"  he  yelled. 

"Ho !  that's  your  game,  is  it  ?"  cried  Jackson,  re- 
suming his  terrible  grip.  "You  prefer  hanging  to 
telling  the  truth,  I  see.  Very  well,  they'll  hang  a  dead 
man,  then." 

The  rage  of  the  old  blacksmith  was  terrible.  He  for- 
got his  promise  to  Greene  in  his  deadly  ire,  and,  push- 
ing Red  Dan  against  the  logs  again,  he  buried  his 
fingers  once  more  in  his  throat. 

The  guard  heard  the  cry  and  rushed  into  the  hut. 


A  Serious  Time  for  Red  Dan.  113 

He  seized  Jackson's  arm  and  tried  to  tear  loose  the 
hand  bent  on  vengeance. 

''You'll  kill  the  prisoner,"  cried  the  guard.  *'He  is 
to  be  tried  as  a  spy  and " 

''There  he  is ;  try  him,  then !"  and  with  this  Jackson 
turned  and  flung  Red  Dan  at  the  soldier's  feet. 

"Curse  you,  madman !  I  believe  you've  killed  him," 
said  the  guard. 

"I  hope  I  have,"  was  the  response.  "It  keeps  some 
others  from  doing  the  same." 

Jackson  strode  from  the  hut  while  the  guard  held  the 
light  over  the  blackened  face  of  Red  Dan  Jeffr}'s. 

Such  w^ere  the  passions  of  the  Revolution. 

The  blacksmith  hurried  back  to  Gen.  Greene's  tent. 

"You  saw  him,  I  suppose?"  asked  the  commander, 
as  he  recognized  his  visitor. 

"I  saw  him  and  left  him  for  dead  in  the  cabin." 

"What?" 

"I  couldn't  help  it.  I've  saved  your  court-martial  a 
job,  that's  all.  I  surrender  to  you,  general,  to  be  tried 
for  what  I've  just  done.  I  hope  the  young  whelp's 
dead,  I  do  indeed.  When  you  want  to  try  old  Jack- 
son you  will  find  him  easily.  He  won't  leave  the 
camp,"  and  with  this  the  blacksmith  walked  away. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A    DEED    OF    BLOOD. 

Capt.  Samson  and  his  prisoners  had  such  a  good 
start  of  the  young  pursuers  that  it  would  require  the 
utmost  speed  and  diligence  to  overtake  them. 

The  last  assault  on  the  manor  house  had  been  suc- 
cessful, and  after  a  desperate  fight  with  the  inmates, 
for  both  Alice  and  Dora  battled  to  the  last  against  ad- 
verse circumstances,  they  were  overcome  and  fortu- 
nately escaped  the  shots  fired  into  the  band  by  Rodney 
and  Jack,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  delivered  their  vol- 
leys after  emerging  from  the  tunnel. 

Thomas  Callaway  was  securely  bound  on  a  horse 
while  the  girls  were  too  closely  guarded  to  think  of 
escaping,  which  they  would  not  do  so  long  as  the  old 
Whig  was  in  the  hands  of  his  foes. 

They  determined  to  share  his  fortunes  to  the  last. 

The  Tories  who  were  killed  in  the  fight  at  the  manor 
house,  along  with  those  who  were  wounded,  were  car- 
ried off  by  the  retreating  band. 

It  was  at  first  intended  to  cross  the  river  at  the 
upper  ford,  but  Capt.  Samson  feared  that  their  pursuers 
would  naturally  make  for  that  quarter,  so  he  changed 
his  course  and  headed  for  another  ford  lower  down. 


A  Deed    of  Blood.  115 

Here  the  band  crossed  witliout  difficulty  and  then  re- 
sumed their  journey. 

Samson  believed  that  the  shots  fired  from  the  rear 
were  really  fired  by  a  party  of  Americans,  so  com- 
pletely did  the  boys  deceive  them,  though  he  could  not 
account  for  the  fact  that  Rodney  and  Jack  were  not 
among  the  captives. 

The  first  halt  of  any  consequence  did  not  take  place 
until  the  Tories  had  put  many  miles  between  them 
and  the  manor. 

Then  reins  were  drawn  in  a  grove  of  great  natural 
beauty,  and  it  was  determined  to  deal  with  Thomas 
Callaway  after  the  merciless  manner  of  the  times. 

The  old  man  was  lifted  from  the  horse  and  placed 
in  the  middle  of  the  foraying  band. 

Short  was  to  be  his  shrift. 

They  recalled  his  former  rescue  by  Black  Gorman, 
and  it  was  determined  that  this  should  not  happen  the 
second  time. 

Several  pine  torches  had  been  provided  to  light  up 
the  weird  scene,  and  Capt.  Samson  approached  the 
prisoner. 

"You  might  have  surrendered  and  saved  the  effu- 
sion of  blood,"  said  he. 

The  only  answer  he  received  was  a  scathing  look 
which  did  not  smooth  his  temper. 

"You  have  been  judged  already,"  the  Tory  leader 


ii6  A  Deed    of   Blood. 

proceeded.  "Sentence  having  been  passed  on  you, 
nothing  is  left  but  its  execution." 

"You  have  me  in  your  power,"  said  Callaway  at 
last. 

"And  we  intend  to  see  that  justice  is  meted  out  to 
you.     You  are  against  the  king." 

"I  am  against  tyranny  wherever  I  find  it." 

"You  have  openly  aided  and  abetted  this  rebellion/* 

"I  have  lifted  my  voice  for  freedom.  If  that  is 
treason,  make  the  most  of  it." 

Capt.  Samson  scowled. 

In  order  to  guard  against  a  surprise,  pickets  had 
been  thrown  around  the  camp,  and  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  the  Tories  to  be  molested  in  their  murderous 
work  without  notification. 

"What  have  you  to  say,  Thomas  Callaway?" 

"You  have  just  heard  me." 

"Then  you  plead  guilty?' 

"To  hatred  of  tyranny,  yes." 

"That's  sufficient." 

At  a  sign  from  Capt.  Samson  a  man  came  forward 
bearing  a  rope. 

Alice  uttered  a  sharp  cry  at  sight  of  the  symbol  of 
death. 

"Remove  the  ladies,"  said  Samson,  with  a  wave  of 
his  hand. 

But  at  that  moment  Alice  sprang  forward  and  threw 
her  arms  round  her  father's  neck. 


A  Deed   of   Blood.  117 

The  Tories  looked  at  one  another. 
One  of  the  darkest  of  the  lot  strode  forward  and 
caught  hold  of  the  girl's  arm. 

But  Alice  would  not  be  shaken  off,  and  her  look 
abashed  the  despicable  wretch. 

"He  is  my  father !"  she  cried.  "Would  you  commit 
murder?" 

"Do  your  duty !"  roared  the  voice  of  Samson. 

The  hireling  put  forth  his  utmost  strength  to  separate 
father  and  child,  but  it  was  a  harder  task  than  he  had 
bargained  for. 

"Don't  let  the  wench  cow  you !"  was  the  stern  com- 
mand. "She  must  not  interfere  with  the  powers  of 
justice.     Take  her  away!" 

A  strong  pull  separated  the  pair,  but  Alice  planted 
herself  in  front  of  her  parent  and  defied  the  band. 

"If  you  dare,"  she  cried.  "This  is  foul  murder  and 
vengeance  will  be  swift  and  sure." 

Capt.  Samson  laughed  at  this  and  ordered  the  girl 
to  be  taken  away  along  with  Dora. 

But  so  defiant  was  her  mien  that  those  to  whom  the 
command  was  issued  hesitated. 

"It  must  be  done,"  and  the  next  moment  Capt.  Sam- 
son himself  came  forward  with  his  eyes  ablaze. 

He  was  about  to  lay  hands  on  the  girl  when  her  form 
seemed  to  increase  in  stature  and  a  knife  flashed  in 
the  light. 


Ii8  A  Deed    of   Blood. 

"If  you  dare,  monster !"  she  exclaimed,  and  the  blade 
executed  a  sudden  swoop  toward  the  Tory's  face, 

Capt.  Samson  drew  back  with  a  curse,  but  Alice  did 
not  flinch. 

It  was  to  be  seen  that  she  intended  to  make  use  of 
the  weapon  she  had  drawn  if  pressed,  but  the  Tory 
band  was  not  to  be  balked  by  a  girl. 

"To  the  limb  with  the  old  traitor,"  shouted  the  loyal- 
ist captain,  and  a  rush  was  made  in  which  Mistress 
Alice  was  rudely  thrust  aside. 

She  turned,  however,  and,  with  a  cry,  sprang  to- 
ward her  father,  throwing  herself  by  her  agility  be- 
tween him  and  his  enemies,  and  once  more  presented  a 
defiant  front. 

By  this  time  the  blood  of  the  Tories  was  at  a  white 
heat. 

The  interference  had  exasperated  them  beyond  en- 
durance. 

The  fair  girl  was  seized  despite  the  threat  of  the 
knife ;  she  was  thrown  aside  and  fell  at  Dora's  feet 
with  a  wild  cry  of  utter  despair. 

The  scene  was  most  exciting. 

The  glare  of  the  faggots  gave  it  a  ghostly  appear- 
ance, and  the  weird  light  thrown  off  by  them  was  ter- 
rorizing. 

Thomas  Callaway  was  dragged  to  a  great  limb  that 
jutted  out  from  the  tree  about  ten  feet  from  the  ground 
and  an  agile  Tory  threw  the  noosed  rope  over  it. 


A  Deed   of  Blood.  119 

In  another  moment  the  death  cord  encircled  the  old 
man's  neck  and  he  felt  it  tighten. 

*'For  the  last  time,"  said  Capt.  Samson,  "will  you 
renounce  allegiance  to  America?" 

"For  the  last  time,  no !" 

"Then  up  with  him !" 

These  words  were  accompanied  by  a  wave  of  the 
hand,  and  the  body  of  Thomas  Callaway  shot  upward, 
the  rope  being  manipulated  by  ten  stout  miscreants. 

Alice  uttered  a  cry  and  Dora  echoed  it  as  the  old  man 
was  jerked  clear  of  the  ground. 

Again  the  daughter  sprang  toward  her  father,  but 
she  was  again  seized  and  flung  back. 

It  was  enough  to  draw  pity  from  a  heart  of  stone, 
but  the  Tories  of  the  Revolution  had  pity  for  no  one. 

The  rope  was  now  fastened  around  a  limb,  and  the 
torchlight  fell  upon  the  face  of  the  master  of  Callaway 
Manor. 

This  time  there  was  to  be  no  rescue. 

"You  will  hear  me  now,"  exclaimed  Mistress  Alice, 
as  she  freed  herself  from  the  grasp  of  the  man  who 
held  her  and  reached  the  spot  where  her  father  hung. 
"The  day  of  vengeance  for  this  brutal  deed  will  not  be 
long  delayed.  God  is  a  God  of  vengeance,  and  He 
will  repay.  More  than  this :  I  will  hunt  down  the 
miscreants  responsible  for  this  bloody  work,  and  when 
my  day  comes  let  every  man  look  in  vain  for  mercy. 
The  blood  of  Cromwell's  famous  captain  runs  through 


I20  A  Deed    of  Blood. 

my  veins,  and,  as  you  have  slain,  so  shall  you  feel  the 
vengeance  of  the  child  of  Thomas  Callaway." 

She  embraced  the  still  swaying  limbs  of  her  father 
and  then  rejoined  Dora. 

"To  horse !"  cried  Capt.  Samson.  **Let  the  buz- 
zards feast  on  the  flesh  of  the  old  rebel,  and  so  may  it 
be  with  all  who  take  up  arms  against  our  king  1" 

In  a  little  while  the  two  girls  were  lifted  from  the 
ground,  and,  with  a  last  look  at  the  one  whom  she 
loved  so  dearly,  Alice  Callaway  was  hurried  from  the 
scene,  followed  by  her  fair  companion  in  misfortune. 

But  little  was  said  by  the  Tory  troop  during  the  next 
hour. 

The  band  galloped  through  the  country,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  listen  for  pursuers,  but  none  seemed 
near,  and  at  last  at  daybreak  the  horses  sniffed  a 
meadow  and  soon  afterward  the  Tory  camp  was 
reached. 

Just  beyond  it  lay  another  camp,  and  here  and  there 
were  seen  the  bright  uniforms  of  British  dragoons. 

"Is  Col.  Tarleton  over  yonder?"  asked  Alice  of  her 
nearest  escort. 

"It  is  Tarleton^s  camp.'' 

"Will  we  be  taken  to  it  ?" 

"That  rests  with  Capt.  Samson." 

As  the  girls  were  lifted  from  the  horses  in  the  heart 
of  the  encampment,  a  handsome-looking  officer  in  scar- 
let advanced  toward  them. 


A  Deed    of  Blood.  ill 


'That  is  Col.  Tarleton,"  whispered  Dora.  "Uncle 
once  shod  his  horse  and  I  remember  his  face." 

Mistress  Alice  uttered  a  cry  and  sprang  toward  the 
officer. 

"Is  this  Col.  Tarleton  of  the  king's  dragoons?"  she 
inquired. 

"I  have  the  pleasure  to  bear  that  name  and  rank, 
miss,"  was  the  answer. 

"Then  let  me  accuse  yon  man  of  murder,"  and  Alice 
turned  and  covered  Capt.  Samson  with  a  withering 
finger. 

"Of  murder,  miss  ?    That's  a  grave  charge." 

"I  witnessed  the  terrible  deed,  for  it  deprived  me 
of  a  father.  I  was  made  an  orphan  last  night  by  the 
brutality  of  that  man,  who  pretends  that  he  carries  out 
your  king's  commands." 

"Then  your  name  is " 

"Alice  Callaway." 

Tarleton  seemed  to  start  and  threw  a  quick  look  in 
the  direction  of  Capt.  Samson. 

"From  what  I  have  heard  of  your  father,  miss,  he 
was  very  bitter  against  the  king." 

"Have  we  no  right  to  our  opinions?" 

"No  right  to  rebellion,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then  to  think  is  to  rebel?  Is  that  true,  Col. 
Tarleton  ?' 

"Your  parent  was  a  rebel,  not  only  a  rebel,  but  he 
has  done  all  he  could  against  us." 


Ill  A  Deed    ot    Blood. 

"He  was  for  liberty." 

"He  rebelled  against  His  Majesty,  George  HI.,  and 
we  are  here  to  punish  rebellion  and  high  treason." 

Alice  drew  back  and  looked  for  a  moment  in  silence 
at  the  great  dragoon. 

"Then  you  indorse  the  act  committed  by  Capt. 
Samson  last  night?  You  sanction  murder  in  South 
Carolina  ?" 

"We  must  deal  with  rebels  without  gloves." 

"Then  may  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  overtake  you  as 
well,"  cried  the  patriotic  girl.  "If  this  is  to  be  war  to 
the  death  so  let  it  be,  Col.  Tarleton.  For  every  drop 
of  blood  shed  by  British  arms  in  the  country,  in  order 
to  destroy  the  love  of  liberty,  a  hundred  will  be  shed  in 
retaliation.  King  George,  if  he  be  a  man,  should  blush 
to  think  that  Col.  Tarleton  wears  a  scarlet  uniform." 

With  this  Alice  turned  and  walked  away,  leaving 
the  officer  looking  after  her  with  a  face  almost  as  red 
as  the  coat  he  wore. 

"On  my  life,  a  rebel  witch !"  he  exclaimed  to  one 
of  his  aides.  *Tf  we  are  to  conquer  the  women  of  this 
accursed  country  I  fear  it  will  be  a  long  campaign." 

"An  endless  one,"  said  the  aide,  as  he  flecked  his 
leggings  with  a  whip. 

Just  then  Capt.  Samson  came  up  and  saluted. 

"So  you  hanged  the  old  rebel,  did  you,  captain?" 
queried  Tarleton. 

'We  strung  him  to  an  oaken  limb.     There's  one 


f(^ 


A  Deed    of   Blood.  laj 

rebel  less  to  hang  when  the  general  hanging  takes 
place." 

"You  did  well,  sir.  I  thank  you  in  the  name  of  the 
king.  But  you  might  have  left  those  young  ladies  be- 
hind you." 

With  this  Tarleton  strode  away  and  Capt.  Samson 
sent  after  him  one  of  his  wolfish  snarls. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   GALLANT    SURPRISE. 

Failing  to  find  traces  of  Capt.  Samson's  band  at  the 
npper  ford,  as  they  had  hoped,  the  young  patriots,  ac- 
companied by  Cupe,  the  slave,  were  compelled  to  turn 
back. 

They  rode  rapidly  to  the  lower  ford,  where  they 
found  many  evidences  of  a  crossing,  and,  in  a  short 
time,  they  were  on  the  farther  side  of  the  stream. 

But  they  had  lost  much  valuable  time  and  were  far 
behind  the  enemy. 

However,  they  tried  to  make  up  the  lost  time  by  hard 
riding,  and  in  due  course  reached  the  scene  of  the 
hanging. 

There,  to  their  horror,  they  found  the  body  of  the 
master  of  Callaway  Manor  dangling  from  the  limb  of 
the  oak,  and  they  lost  no  time  in  cutting  it  down. 

Their  indignation  knew  no  bounds. 

The  inhumanity  of  the  Tory  chief  angered  them 
beyond  expression  and  many  were  the  threatenings  of 
vengeance  that  escaped  their  lips. 

Cupe  was  left  to  bear  the  body  of  his  beloved  master 
home,  while  the  boys  pressed  on. 

The  trail  of  the  miscreants  was  so  fresh  that  they 
had  no  difficulty  in  following  it. 


A  Gallant  Surprise.  125 

They  did  not  think  of  a  party  of  Tarleton's  dragoons 
being  in  the  vicinity,  although  that  ranger  was  liable 
to  turn  up  almost  anywhere. 

He  was  accustomed  to  hang  upon  the  flanks  of 
Greene's  army  and  more  than  once  his  fearlessness  had 
cost  him  dearly,  as  Washington's  troopers  met  him 
bravely  and  disputed  with  him  for  the  mastery  of 
battle. 

Rodney  and  Jack  came  almost  suddenly  upon  Tarle- 
ton's camp. 

They  were  struck  with  amazement  at  sight  of  it,  but 
as  the  trail  had  led  them  in  that  direction  they  now 
doubted  not  that  Capt.  Samson  had  joined  the 
dragoons. 

They  also  believed  that  they  had  found  the  girls,  for 
they  were  equally  sure  that  they  were  prisoners  in  the 
British  camp. 

Finding  a  densely  wooded  place,  which  afforded  a 
good  screen  during  daylight,  the  boys  penetrated  to  its 
center  and  prepared  to  rest  till  nightfall. 

They  were  determined  not  to  retrace  their  steps 
without  an  effort  to  rescue  the  two  fair  captives. 

From  the  wooded  knoll  upon  which  they  lay  con- 
cealed they  had  a  good  view  of  the  encampment,  and 
they  discovered  that  the  two  forces  had  come  together. 

They  even  detected  Capt.  Samson  from  his  swagger 
as  he  passed  through  the  camp  and  made  out  an 
officer  whom  they  took  to  be  Col.  Tarleton  himself. 


126  A  Gallant  Surprise. 


Slowly  the  day  passed  for  the  young  forayers. 

They  saw  the  sun  decline  behind  the  hills  in  the 
west,  and  at  last  night  threw  her  somber  mantle  over 
all. 

*'Now  for  it !"  said  Rodney,  to  his  friend.  *'We  must 
rescue  the  captives  before  daybreak,  or  we  will  lose 
the  fruits  of  our  long  ride." 

**If  we  are  caught  there  will  be  other  gallows'  fruit. 
You  know  what  Tarleton  thinks  of  boy  soldiers." 

"Yes,  he  wantonly  hanged  the  Biddle  brothers  last 
winter,  and  we  will  suffer  a  like  fate  if  we  fail,  but  we 
must  not  fail.  Jack." 

^'Certainly  not." 

It  was  one  thing  to  watch  a  camp  of  the  enemy  and 
quite  another  to  enter  it  on  a  hostile  mission. 

But  the  boys  did  not  permit  the  outlook  to  daunt 
them. 

Leading  their  horses  to  the  edge  of  the  camp  under- 
neath the  curtain  of  stars,  they  left  them  in  a  secluded 
spot  and  crept  into  the  cantonment  itself. 

Tarleton  had  selected  an  ideal  spot  for  his  camp,  a 
spot  naturally  guarded,  and  the  white  tents  showed  the 
boys  where  they  were. 

From  what  they  had  seen  from  their  ambush  they 
were  almost  certain  that  they  could  locate  the  tent  in 
which  the  captives  had  been  placed  for  a  guard  paced 
in  front  of  it. 


A  Gallant  Surprise.  lay 

They  crept  toward  this  particular  canvas  with  the 
utmost  caution. 

In  the  center  of  the  encampment  stood  a  large  tent, 
which  was  Tarleton's,  and  there  a  number  of  officers 
were  making  merry  with  wine  recently  stolen  from 
some  rebel's  cellars. 

Thev  could  hear  the  loud  sounds  of  the  carousal  as 
they  were  borne  outward  on  the  wind,  and  the  favorite 
drinking  song  of  the  British  struck  harshly  upon  their 
ears: 

"We  drink  the  health  of  Royal  George, 

We  cut  the  rebels  down, 
And  with  our  swords  for  him  we  forge 
A  brighter,  grander  crown ! 

"Then  ho !  ho !  ho !  to  war  we  go, 
W^e  fill  this  rebel  land  with  woe ; 
Our  good  swords  ring,  our  pistols  sing. 
Huzza!  huzza!  for  George,  our  king!" 

The  boys  paused  a  moment  and  looked  at  one  an- 
other with  smiles  as  the  drinking  song  floated  out  upon 
the  night  wdnd  and  was  borne  afar,  to  echo  back 
through  wood  and  marsh, 

"They're  having  a  fine  time,"  whispered  Jack.  "But 
just  wait  till  Col.  Washington  gets  a  chance  at  them. 
There  will  be  songs  of  another  nature  then." 

"Ay !  that  there  will.     Other  swords  will  ring  then 
and  upon  the  heads  of  the  singers  over  yonder." 
Slipping  from  tree  to  tree,  as  they  approached  the 


128  A  Gallant  Surprise. 

tent  which  was  their  goal,  they  made  out  at  last  the 
figure  of  the  sentry  who  guarded  it. 

Of  course  Capt.  Samson  was  with  Tarleton. 

When  they  crouched  within  ten  feet  of  the  tent  they 
watched  the  sentry  a  few  moments  and  laid  their  plans 
accordingly. 

They  noticed  that  he  was  a  well-built  dragoon,  who 
did  not  particularly  like  his  job,  for  he  walked  negli- 
gently on  his  beat,  with  his  w^eapon  in  an  improper 
position  for  a  soldier. 

"The  tree  yonder  when  the  guard  turns  his  back  the 
next  time,"  said  Rodney,  in  low  tones. 

Jack  nodded. 

Presently  the  opportunity  came  and  the  boys  gained 
the  tree  unperceived. 

They  were  now  within  a  few  feet  of  the  sentry's  beat 
and  only  waited  for  their  opportunity. 

In  a  short  time  the  sentry  came  back  slowly,  and, 
at  a  signal  from  Rodney,  both  sprang  forward  and  fell 
upon  the  unsuspecting  dragoon  like  young  panthers. 

The  guard  was  borne  to  the  ground  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eyelash. 

A  pair  of  hands  were  placed  over  his  mouth,  and,  as 
he  tried  to  resist.  Jack  struck  him  a  vicious  blow  on 
the  head  with  the  butt  of  a  heavy  pistol  which  put  him 
out  of  the  way  for  the  moment. 

In  another  second  they  had  securely  gagged  him, 


"  As  the  boy  partisan  pulled  aside  the  flaps  of  the  prison  tent,  two  white,  half- 
frightened  faces  stared  at  him."  (See  page  129) 


A  Gallant  Surprise.  119 


the  man  being  unconscious,  and  now  they  had  their 
own  way. 

Rodney  sprang  to  the  flaps  of  the  tent. 

They  had  made  but  little  noise  in  the  capturing  of 
the  sentry,  but  that  little  had  been  heard  by  eager  ears. 

As  the  boy  partisan  pulled  aside  the  flaps  of  the 
prison  tent,  two  white,  half-frightened  faces  stared  at 
him. 

"Not  a  word,"  said  the  young  Whig,  quickly.  "Get 
ready  to  leave  this  villainous  nest." 

"We  are  ready  now !" 

As  the  two  girls  stepped  from  the  tent  Rodney  and 
Jack  seized  the  guard  and  threw  him  inside,  where  he 
fell  upon  the  bundle  of  straw  which  had  been  provided 
as  beds  for  the  fair  captives. 

"Come,"  said  Rodney.  "We  must  now  traverse  the 
camp  to  the  horses.  The  officers  are  still  merry  over 
their  rebel  wine  and  the  poor  privates  seemed  to  have 
slipped  away  to  dreamland." 

With  the  greatest  caution  the  quartet  commenced 
the  movement  toward  the  confines  of  Tarleton's  camp. 

The  crisis  of  the  adventure  had  been  reached. 

All  knew  that  discovery  meant  terror,  if  not  death, 
but  this  only  lent  the  four  courage. 

"Did  you  find — father?"  suddenly  asked  Alice,  as 
she  clutched  Rodney's  arm. 

"Yes." 

''And " 


ijo  A  Gallant  Surprise. 


"Not  a  word.  The  wind  may  bear  a  whisper  to 
Tarleton's  watchers." 

Alice  did  not  press  her  question. 

Suddenly  Jack  touched  Rodney's  shoulder  and 
pointed  to  the  left. 

All  halted  and  looked  in  that  direction. 

Outlined  against  the  myriads  of  stars  was  a  giant 
figure  which  had  the  statuesque  pose  of  a  Roman. 

Indeed  it  looked  like  a  statue  in  bronze,  but  the  boys 
knew  that  it  was  a  living  enemy. 

The  man  was  not  twenty  yards  away,  and  Jack 
could  not  have  told  when  he  came  to  the  spot  he  occu- 
pied, nor  how.  But  he  was  there,  and  his  presence 
meant  danger. 

More  than  this,  the  man  stood  between  them  and 
the  horses,  a  deathly  barrier  as  it  seemed. 

The  sight  was  enough  to  chill  the  blood  in  the  veins 
^f  the  four,  and  the  girls  drew  closer  to  their  friends. 

What  was  to  be  done?  There  was  no  time  for  a 
council  of  war ;  the  danger  was  too  imminent. 

But  something  had  to  be  done  and  that  immedi- 
ately. 

Rodney  sized  up  the  situation,  and  with  a  look  at 
Jack  bounded  straight  at  the  ghostlike  figure. 

The  man  did  not  look  for  this. 

Before  he  could  make  a  move  calculated  to  baffle 
the  young  Whig,  he  was  upon  him  and  the  two  went 
to  the  ground  together. 


A  Gallant  Surprise.  131 


Jack,  seeing  this,  ran  to  Rodney's  assistance,  and  the 
boys  soon  discovered  that  they  were  dealing  with  no 
ordinary  person. 

The  man  struggled  like  a  savage  taken  unawares; 
he  rolled  his  huge  bulk  over,  struck  out  with  arms  and 
feet,  and  finally  freed  himself  only  to  be  attacked  again. 

This  last  time  he  was  struck  with  a  heavy  stick  which 
Jack  had  picked  up,  and,  half  stunned,  reeled  away, 
uttering  a  wild  cry. 

"Now  for  the  horses !"  cried  Rodney.  "It  is  now  or 
never.    That  rascal  will  have  the  camp  at  our  heels." 

The  boys  guided  the  girls  to  the  steeds  and  but 
little  time  was  consumed  in  mounting. 

"Wasn't  that  Capt.  Samson?"  queried  Jack. 

"I  thought  so,  but  am  not  certain.     If  it  was • 

Hark !" 

There  were  the  sounds  of  many  voices  in  the  camp. 

Men  were  rushing  hither  and  thither,  pandemonium 
seemed  to  reign  everywhere,  but  fortunately  as  yet 
there  was  no  head  to  the  movement. 

Gathering  up  the  reins,  the  boys  urged  the  horses 
forward  at  their  utmost  speed. 

The  animals  seemed  to  realize  by  the  double  burdens 
they  now  carried  that  everything  depended  on  fleetness 
of  foot,  and  they  stretched  away  like  Barbary  coursers. 

Away  over  the  road  which  led  from  the  camp  they 
went,  their  riders  clinging  gallantly  to  their  backs. 


132  A  Gallant  Surprise. 

speaking  only  at  long  intervals  in  the  intense  excite- 
ment of  the  run. 

Not  until  several  miles  had  been  placed  between  them 
and  the  camp  was  a  rein  drawn. 

Then  thev  halted  and  listened. 

A  gentle  wind  was  blowing  through  the  trees  that 
lined  the  road,  and  near  by  a  Httle  stream  purled  over 
its  pebbly  bed. 

Jack  sprang  from  his  horse  and  put  his  ear  near  the 
ground. 

Suddenly  he  sprang  up  and  resumed  his  place  in 
the  saddle. 

"You  need  keep  nothing  from  us/*  said  Alice,  look- 
ing at  the  boy.     "They  are  in  pursuit." 

"Yes,  the  enemy  has  recovered  from  the  surprise. 
He  is  now  behind  us  riding  like  the  wind." 

"Then  we  shall  outstrip  the  wind,"  cried  Rodney. 
"Heaven  helping  us,  we  will  beat  Tarleton's  scarlet 
riders  and  win  the  victory." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    DEMON     WITH    THE    HAMMER. 

The  belief,  nay,  the  evidence,  that  British  and  Tories 
were  on  their  trail,  sufficed  to  render  the  situation 
most  desperate. 

Both  Jack  and  Rodney  knew  something  of  the  riding 
qualities  of  Tarleton's  fierce  dragoons. 

These  men  in  scarlet  had  been  the  terror  of  the  South 
for  many  a  long  month. 

They  seemed  born  to  the  saddle  and  knew  the  coun- 
try over  which  they  rode. 

Aided  by  their  Tory  friends,  they  had  devastated  one 
of  the  loveliest  parts  of  the  land,  and  they  did  not 
hesitate  to  destroy  property  and  lives  on  the  slightest 
provocation. 

Mothers  frightened  their  babes  to  sleep  with  the 
name  of  Banastre  Tarleton,  and  his  warfare,  notably 
the  affair  at  Waxhaws,  had  rendered  his  name  ac- 
cursed forever. 

The  fugitives,  fully  expecting  in  time  to  be  over- 
taken— for  the  two  steeds  carried  double,  and,  besides, 
had  not  fully  rested  from  the  long  ride  to  the  British 
encampment — sped  on. 

They  did  not  have  to  draw  rein  now  to  listen  to  the 
sounds  of  pursuit. 


134       l^hc   Demon  With  the  Hammer. 

They  could  hear  the  clink  of  sabers  and  knew  that 
the  enemy  was  riding  in  their  wake. 

*'They  don't  hear  us,"  said  Rodney,  suddenly,  as 
they  reached  the  bank  of  a  small  stream  that  flowed 
through  the  soft  starlight.    "We  must  fight  them  here." 

"As  you  say,  boy,"  responded  Jack. 

A  fringe  of  trees  stood  along  the  water's  edge,  while 
beyond  it  lay  a  spot  of  open  ground. 

The  enemy  would  have  to  cross  this  open  space  be- 
fore reaching  the  creek,  while  the  boys  and  their  friends 
were  well  concealed  by  the  timber. 

The  pistols  were  placed  in  the  girls'  hands. 

"You  know  how  to  use  the  weapon?"  Rodney  said 
to  Alice. 

The  young  girl  smiled. 

"Father  taught  me." 

"I  can  vouch  for  your  marksmanship,  Dora,"  he  went 
on,  as  he  looked  at  the  blacksmith's  niece.  "We  used 
to  practice  with  the  pistol  by  the  old  forge." 

"And  I  always  beat  you,  didn't  I  ?" 

Rodney  nodded,  while  he  and  Jack  made  ready  with 
the  muskets. 

All  knew  that  the  creek  was  not  deep  and  could  be 
forded  with  the  greatest  ease,  therefore  they  determined 
to  meet  the  enemy  as  he  plunged  into  the  open  and 
afforded  good  targets  for  their  aim. 

"Don't  throw  away  any  shots.  Remember  this  is 
retaliation  and  vengeance." 


The    Demon  With  the  Hammer.        135 

'*Just  as  if  I  could  forget  after  what  I  have  passed 
through,"  said  AHce  Callaway. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  pursuers. 

It  was  necessary  to  stop  them  at  the  creek  if  they 
were  to  be  stopped  at  all. 

It  was  not  possible  that  Tarleton  had  ordered  out  his 
entire  force  in  the  chase,  and  the  young  partisans  hoped 
they  would  not  have  to  encounter  more  than  a  dozen. 

"Here  they  come !"  whispered  Jack,  as  the  enemy 
reached  the  edge  of  the  open  ground. 

It  was  true,  for  the  next  moment  the  little  place 
seemed  alive  with  horses  and  men. 

"Wait  a  moment.    They  will  come  nearer  still." 

The  suspense  was  terrible. 

"Fire !"  suddenly  cried  Rodney,  and  four  well-aimed 
weapons  belched  forth  their  contents. 

There  were  loud  cries  among  the  hunters  in  red  and 
buckskin. 

Horses  fell  back  and  two  men  dropped  from  the 
saddles. 

The  whole  band  seemed  thrown  into  the  direst  con- 
fusion. 

This  gave  the  boys  time  to  push  new  charges  into 
the  muskets  and  again  the  weapons  spoke. 

"Now  the  creek,"  said  the  boy  leader  of  the  little 
band. 

The  horses  plunged  through  the  belt  of  trees  and 
dashed  across  the  stream. 


136       The    Demon  With  the   Hammer. 

Bullets  whistled  round  their  heads  and  cut  the  water 
about  the  feet  of  the  horses. 

**Bad  shooting  in  a  bad  cause,"  grinned  Jack,  with  a 
laugh  following. 

As  the  steeds  scrambled  up  the  opposite  bank  the 
enemy  fired  another  volley  and  came  forward. 

Then  there  rose  underneath  the  stars  a  figure  at 
which  all  four  looked  with  staring  eyes. 

It  was  a  man  mounted  on  a  large,  black  horse,  and 
with  a  yell  that  seemed  to  congeal  the  blood  of  all  who 
heard,  he  plunged  into  the  ford  straight  in  the  teeth 
of  the  king's  men. 

"Some  madman,"  said  Jack.  "Look  what  a  strange 
weapon  he  has.    It  is  not  a  sword." 

This  was  true,  for  the  weapon  carried  by  the  stranger 
was  a  hammer  at  the  end  of  a  long  handle,  and  he 
swung  it  over  his  head  as  he  drove  his  steed  at  the  foe. 

He  stood  erect  in  his  stirrups,  his  great  bulk  looking 
weirdly  large  in  the  uncertain  light. 

**Death  to  George !"  he  cried  at  the  top  of  his  strong, 
vibrant  voice.  "Down  with  royalty  in  North  America !" 
He  was  in  the  middle  of  the  stream  now. 

The  hammer  swung  over  his  head,  and  he  had  re- 
linquished his  hold  on  the  reins. 

"Is  he  real  ?"  cried  one  of  the  girls. 

"What  make  of  monster  can  he  be?"  queried  Jack, 
who  gazed  wonder-struck  at  their  new  ally.     "Some 


The   Demon  With  the  Hammer.        137 

madman  at  large,  no  doubt,  or  some  person  driven 
insane  by  the  work  of  Tarleton's  minions.'* 

The  enemy,  who  had  reached  the  water,  drew  back 
with  pallid  faces. 

Clearly  they  had  never  encountered  a  foe  like  the 
unknown. 

His  voice  roared  like  a  tornado,  leaping  from  his 
throat  in  mad  sentences,  while  he  drove  his  heels  into 
his  horse's  flanks  and  urged  him  c»i. 

"Will  they  withstand  the  apparitic«i  ?"  cried  Rodney. 
"Look !  they  are  going  to  meet  him.  No,  they  are 
drawing  back,  but  that  will  not  balk  the  night  fiend." 

True  it  was  that  the  king's  men  on  the  farther  bank 
were  hesitating,  for  they  had  not  fired  a  shot  at  the 
unknown. 

Seconds  seemed  minutes  to  those  who  beheld  this 
strange  conflict. 

"Death  to  all  Tories  and  British !  Down  with  King 
George!"  welled  again  from  the  giant's  throat. 

The  black  horse  struck  the  other  bank. 

His  rider  seemed  to  lift  himself  from  the  stirrups 
as  he  shot  straight  at  the  enemy. 

The  hammer  executed  a  new  circle  and  a  new  yell 
followed  it. 

"Look  !  look !    He  is  among  them !" 

The  pursuing  band  had  hesitated  too  long. 

The  apparition  was  really  among  them,  the  hammer 
moving  in  swift  and  terrible  circles  around  his  head. 


138       The   Demon  With  the  Hammer. 

Horses  were  forced  back  upon  their  haunches,  and 
men  with  blanched  faces  reeled  from  the  madman. 

It  was  a  scene  of  terror  and  confusion. 

The  terrible  hammer  made  a  pathway  through  the 
ranks  of  British  and  Tories  for  its  owner. 

It  did  not  seem  a  second  until  the  unknown  was  be- 
yond them,  and  then,  to  the  amazement  of  all,  he 
turned  and  came  back. 

By  this  time  the  king's  dragoons  seemed  to  recover 
a  part  of  their  courage,  for  they  struck  at  the  unknown 
with  their  sabers,  but  the  novel  weapon  beat  them 
down. 

It  was  like  Thor  riding  through  a  flock  of  sheep. 

'Can't  we  help  him?"  cried  Dora. 

'He  is  vengeance  itself,"  was  the  reply.  "Let  us 
wait  till  he  comes." 

There  were  flashes  of  muskets  and  pistols  behind  the 
stranger,  but  he  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life. 

He  turned,  laughed  at  the  enemy,  and  plunged 
through  the  water. 

The  sudden  checking  of  Tarleton's  men  in  such  a 
startling  manner  had  held  the  four  spectators  almost 
spellbound. 

They  were  speechless  when  the  unknown  appeared 
among  them. 

"Come !  Follow  me !"  he  commanded,  and  the  two 
horses  fell  in  behind  him. 

He   kept    well    ahead,    with    bullets    still    whistling 


<</ 


tc\ 


The   Demon  With  the  Hammer.        139 

round  the  ears  of  all,  for  the  enemy,  while  they  feared 
to  continue  the  pursuit,  could  still  send  leaden  missiles 
in  their  wake. 

For  more  tlian  a  mile  the  unknown  led  the  little  party 
through  the  woods  and  over  the  open  lands. 

He  spoke  not,  but  sat  his  saddle  like  a  born  Cossack. 

More  than  once  Dora  leaned  forward  and  studied 
him  attentively. 

Her  face  assumed  a  singular  expression  while  she 
did  so,  as  if  there  was  something  familiar  about  the 
unknown. 

"I  half  believe  it,"  she  was  heard  to  exclaim  at  last. 

''What  do  you  half  beUeve,.  Dora?"  asked  Alice. 

The  blacksmith's  niece  was  silent. 

"No,  it  cannot  be,  for  they  hanged  him;  I'm  sure 
they  did." 

"Dora,"  put  in  Rodney,  "you  remember  the  warn- 
ing we  found  on  the  tree  where  Capt.  Samson  hanged 
your  uncle?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  look  at  those  shoulders.  Isn't  there  something 
familiar  in  their  shape?" 

"There  is,  there  is !  I  see  it  now.  But  yet  it  cannot 
be  he." 

"Ride  on  and  look  back  in  his  face." 

"You  can  urge  the  horse  forward  and  I  will  look." 

Rodney  did  this  and  the  steed,  feeling  the  prickings 


140       The    Demon  With  the  Hammer. 

of  the  spur,  soon  came  alongside  of  the  animal  ridden 
by  the  unknown. 

Just  then  the  little  party  struck  an  open  glade,  and 
Rodney's  steed  reached  the  black. 

"Look  closely,"  the  boy  whispered  to  Dora. 

In  another  moment  their  horse  had  passed  the 
strange  helper,  and  the  daughter  of  the  forge  looked 
keenly  into  the  bearded  face  as  they  passed  it. 

"It  is  true.    Uncle  Jackson  is  the  madman  !'* 

In  another  second  the  big  black  had  forged  ahead 
and  was  pushing  across  the  glade  with  increased  speed. 

*'That  accounts  for  the  hammer,"  said  Rodnev.  "It 
would  naturally  be  his  weapon.  He  must  have  un- 
earthed his  tools." 

"It  was  little  short  of  murder,  the  way  he  broke 
heads  with  that  terrible  weapon." 

"It  was  justice!    It  saved  us,  girl." 

In  a  short  time  they  beheld  the  strange  ally  awaiting 
them  on  the  summit  of  a  slight  knoll. 

*We  shall  know  now,"  said  Jack  to  Alice. 

That  is  if  he  sees  fit  to  disclose  his  identity." 

'But  he  has  evidently  halted  for  that  purpose." 

The  unknown  seemed  to  have  halted  for  consultation 
with  those  behind  him,  and  as  the  two  steeds  came  up 
he  pointed  ahead. 

"You  must  leave  me  here,"  he  said.  "There  is  no 
fear  of  pursuit  from  now  on." 


^^^ 


((' 


«1 


The    Demon  With  the  Hammer.        141 

*'But  you  will  let  us  thank  you  ?"  exclaimed  Rodney, 
"You  came  to  the  rescue  in  the  nick  of  time." 

"I  came  in  time  to  break  a  few  heads,  you  mean. 
You  will  go  on." 

"Nay,  let  me  see  you  first,"  cried  Dora;  "I  know 
you,  and  I  am  Dora !' 

The  arm  that  pointed  ahead  was  not  dropped  a  hair. 

The  features  of  the  man  did  not  relax  any  of  their 
gravity  at  Dora's  words. 

"Go!  Young  sirs,  you  will  be  needed  in  Greene's- 
camp  ere  long.    The  battle  hour  is  almost  at  hand." 

"That  is  true,  and  we  want  to  strike  when  it  comes, 
but  you  must  let  us  thank  you " 

"Go!"  was  the  stern  interruption.  "No  thanks  for 
duty  done.  Long  live  the  cause  of  liberty  in  North 
America  and  confusion  to  King  George  I" 

He  swung  the  hammer  before  his  face  as  if  in  men- 
ace, and  Rodney  did  not  approach  nearer. 

"Good-night.  We  will  meet  again,"  he  continued. 
"The  road  to  vengeance  is  broad  enough  for  all  of  us." 

"That  is  true,  but  you  will  surely " 

"Enough!    Good-night,  I  say." 

With  this  the  ally  turned  and  gave  his  horse  the 
spurs. 

"One  moment,  only  one!"  cried  Dora,  flinging  out 

her  arms  imploringly.     "Uncle  Jackson,  listen  for  a 

moment.     I  hid  the  papers  before  they  reached  the 

house.    I— I Too  late  I" 


142       The   Demon  With  the  Hammer. 

Her  last  words  were  addressed  to  Rodney,  for  the 
black  horse  and  his  rider  had  vanished  on  the  opposite 
slope  of  the  hill  and  they  were  alone  again. 

"It  was  Uncle  Jackson,"  said  Dora,  "but  he  was 
mad — mad — bereft  of  reason." 

"Tyranny  will  have  much  to  answer  for  in  the  Caro- 
linas  before  the  war  ends,"  and  with  this  Rodney  mo- 
tioned for  the  journey  to  be  resumed,  which  was  im- 
mediately done. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    PISTOL    IN     HIS    FACE. 

The  rest  of  the  ride  to  Callaway  Manor  was  without 
incident. 

It  was  a  sad  return  for  Alice,  who  could  repair  to 
the  grave  of  her  father,  which  had  been  made  by  the 
faithful  Cupe,  and  pour  out  the  sorrow  of  her  young 
heart  in  silence. 

After  seeing  the  two  girls  safe  under  the  old  roof, 
Rodney  and  Jack  bade  them  adieu  and  returned  to 
Greene's  army. 

The  Httle  band  of  patriots  had  been  sadly  reduced  by 
desertions  and  the  results  of  battle. 

The  militia  had  gone  home  in  large  numbers,  and 
there  was  no  certainty  about  their  return. 

Comwallis  was  out  of  the  way  for  the  time  at  least, 
but  Lord  Rawdon  lay  at  Camden  with  a  strong  force 
watching  Greene,  and  eager  for  an  opportunity  to 
swoop  eaglelike  upon  him  and  crush  him  at  one  blow. 

The  lack  of  numbers,  however,  did  not  daunt  the 
heroic  Greene. 

He  resolved  to  take  the  initiative  and  bring  about  a 
battle  before  his  enemy  expected  it. 

Tarleton  and  his  Tory  allies  were  overrunning  the 
whole   district,   plundering   and   murdering   wherever 


144  A   Pistol  in  His  Face. 

they  could,  the  tragical  close  of  Thomas  Callaway's 
life  being  but  an  incident  in  their  merciless  campaign. 

As  for  Red  Dan,  whom  we  left,  as  the  reader  will 
recollect,  in  Greene's  camp,  after  being  assaulted  by 
the  patriot  blacksmith,  he  had  recovered  from  the  ter- 
rible choking  and  had  been  tried  as  a  spy  by  court- 
martial. 

The  young  scapegrace  was  saved  by  the  skin  of  his 
teeth,  as  it  were,  and  a  few  days  afterward  he  effected 
his  escape  and  turned  up  suddenly  at  home. 

Here  he  was  met  by  Austin  Jeffrys,  his  father,  the 
same  stern,  old,  uncompromising  royalist,  who,  flew 
into  a  passion,  declaring  that  a  general  who  would  try 
his  son  for  a  spy  deserved  the  most  ignominious  death 
the  passions  of  war  could  inflict. 

"And  they  wanted  to  hang  you,  did  they  ?"  demanded 
the  old  man,  as  he  struck  the  floor  with  his  cane. 

"They  came  near  doing  it." 

"Wanted  to  hang  a  Jeffrys !  Well,  I'll  get  even  with 
them  one  of  these  days.  Now,  my  son,  Fve  got  some- 
thing to  say  on  the  question  of  marriage." 

This  was  a  subject  which  Red  Dan  did  not  care  to 
discuss  just  then. 

"You  remember  the  beautiful  Miss  Somers,  of  Som- 
ers  Knob?"  continued  Jeffrys,  Sr. 

Dan  winced  and  looked  away. 

"Come,  sir,  no  getting  away  from  this  business.  You 
recall  her,  of  course?" 


A  Pistol  in  His  Face.  I45 


"I've  seen  the  lady." 

"Of  course  you  have.  Well,  sir,  she  has  consented 
to  become  Mrs.  Jeffrys." 

"What,  you  haven't " 

^'Certainly  I  have.  You  couldn't  woo  her  for  your- 
self, for  you  were  absent,  therefore  I  took  the  matter 
into  my  own  hands  and  have  the  preliminaries  all  ar- 
ranged." 

"But  don't  you  think  you've  been — ^well,  just  a  little 

hasty  ?" 

"Not  a  bit  hasty,  young  sir." 

"You  might  have  waited  till  after  the  war.  I  might 
get  a  bullet  through  me  before  that." 

"Or  get  hanged  by  Marion  or  Greene,  eh?" 

"One  fate  or  the  other  is  probable,"  said  Dan.  "rm 
quite  sure  that  Mistress  Sarah  does  not  care  to  wear 
widow's  weeds  so  soon." 

Austin  Jeffrys  watched  his  son  in  silence  for  a 
minute. 

"You  love  the  Whig  chit,  I  see,"  he  ventured. 

"Did  I  say  so?" 

"Silence  sometimes  speaks  louder  than  words.  You 
still  cling  to  the  Callaway  girl.  Why,  sir,  they've 
hanged  her  rebel  father " 

"I  know  that." 

"Do  you  think  for  a  moment  that  she  would  look 
at  you?" 


146  "^A  Pistol  in  His  Face. 


"She  won't  look  away  while  I'm  present.  I'm  sure 
of  that/' 

"I  don't  want  the  Jeffrys  blood  mixed  with  the 
blood  of  rebels  \"  almost  roared  the  old  Tory.  "You 
failed  to  find  the  papers  which  Jackson,  the  blacksmith, 
had  in  his  house." 

"I  searched  the  premises  carefully,  but  they  could 
not  be  found." 

"That  was  poor  work.  I  could  have  done  better  my- 
self." 

"What  were  those  papers  ?" 

"They  were  worth  their  weight  in  gold.  Why,  sir, 
they  settle  upon  the  girl — Dora,  they  call  her— a  for- 
tune which  is  now  across  the  water.  With  those  papers 
in  my  possession  I  could  deprive  her  of  every  penny 
of  it.  Isn't  that  enough  for  you  ?  I  told  you  to  seardl 
every  nook  and  crevice  of  the  house." 

"Which  I  did,  father." 

'And  you  hanged  the  old  blacksmith,  too?*' 

'Strung  him  up." 

Dan  knew  better  than  this.  True,  they  had  hanged 
old  Jackson,  but  his  meeting  with  the  hanged  man  in 
Greene's  camp  had  almost  proved  his  own  undoing. 
He  did  not  think  it  wise  to  acquaint  his  father  with  the 
truth. 

"Well,  going  back  to  the  marriage  question,"  re- 
sumed Austin  Jeffrys,  "you  will  consider  yourself  en- 
gaged to  Mistress  Sarah." 


<< 


<<( 


A  Pistol  in  His  Face.  147 


"Engaged  by  proxy,  I  presume/' 

"Call  it  that  if  you  like.  Her  father  is  proud  of  the 
match." 

"Well,  I  wish  him  much  joy  over  his  prospects." 

Old  Jeffrys  caught  the  sarcasm,  poorly  concealed  by 
his  son's  tones. 

"The  ceremony  will  take  place  this  day  a  week." 

"What,  so  soon?" 

"You  will  want  to  go  back  to  the  army,  and  I  thought 
best  not  to  have  you  absent  from  it  too  long.  This 
war  is  liable  to  end  suddenly  and  you  haven't  had 
much  of  a  chance  as  yet  to  distinguish  yourself." 

"Yes,"  answered  Dan,  dolefully,  "if  Greene  con- 
tinues the  tactics  he  has  devolped  during  the  last  few 
months  the  war  will  come  to  a  hasty  close." 

"You  don't  seem  to  rate  our  generals  very  high." 

"Why  should  I?  Cornwallis  has  been  completely 
outgeneraled  by  this  rebel,  who  is,  so  I  am  told,  the  son 
of  a  Quaker.  Just  think  of  it,  a  warrior  of  repute 
beaten  by  the  scion  of  a  sect  opposed  to  wars.  It  is 
disgraceful." 

"But  Lord  Rawdon  is  confronting  Greene  now." 

"That  is  true  and  you  will  see  him  outgeneraled 
as  well." 

"I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  how  a  raggamuffin 
army  can  outwit  us." 

"They  outfight  us  also!"  exclaimed  Dan.  "Why, 
sir,  when  men  wear  nothing  but  a  waistband  and  carry 


148  A  Pistol  in  His  Face. 

moss  on  their  shoulders  in  order  to  relieve  the  pres- 
sure of  the  musket,  marching  shoeless  hundreds  of 
miles  and  all  the  time  on  the  verge  of  starvation,  how 
are  you  going  to  conquer  them  ?" 

Austin  Jeifrys  was  silent  a  little  while. 

"You  say  they  fight  r 

"They  are  lions  in  battle." 

"But  their  militia  runs." 

"Of  course  it  does.  But  the  regulars,  the  Conti- 
entals,  as  they  call  them,  stand  like  stone  walls." 

"Why  doesn't  Tarleton  ride  them  down?" 

"Their  Col.  Washington  rides  Tarleton  down/* 
smiled  Red  Dan. 

The  old  man  again  pounded  the  floor  with  his  cane. 

"Very  well.  We'll  beat  them  in  the  end,  and  then 
for  a  great  hanging!  It  will  beat  Tyburn's  jubilee 
days.  We'll  hang  Greene  first,  then  the  Swamp  Fox, 
then  Washington,  and  Lee,  and " 

"You'll  catch  them  first,  I  suppose,"  broke  in  Dan, 
with  a  grimace. 

"They're  as  good  as  caught  already.  But,  my  son, 
you  will  remain  at  the  hall  to-night?" 

"I'll  come  back.     I'm  going  to  ride  a  little." 

"Not  to  see  the  rebel  witch?" 

"That  is  wholly  my  affair,"  was  the  harshly  spoken 
answer.     "I  am  of  age,  you  know." 

•     "Then  curses  follow  you!"  and  the  old  man  raised 


A  Pistol  in  His  Face.  149 

his  hand  threateningly.  "If  you  go  to  Callaway  Manor 
may  disaster  overtake  you !" 

Dan  strode  to  the  door  and  halted  there. 

"Nothing  can  break  the  bargain  I  have  made,"  cried 
his  father,  as  he  gazed  at  the  tall,  young  dragoon. 
"You  must  marry  Mistress  Sarah  Somers,  of  Somers 
Knob." 

The  young  man  made  no  reply,  but  opened  the  door 
and  was  gone  in  a  moment. 

He  proceeded  to  the  stables  and  brought  out  his 
horse. 

He  no  longer  wore  the  uniform  of  a  British  dragoon, 
but  was  dressed  in  well-made  garments  that  betrayed 
no  rank. 

A  slave  held  the  bridle  while  he  mounted  and  the 
following  moment  he  galloped  aw^ay. 

Left  to  himself,  old  Austin  Jeffrys  passed  into  the 
great,  high-ceiled  parlor  and  moved  the  light  to  a 
table,  from  whence  its  radiance  would  fall  upon  the 
portrait  of  a  handsome  lady  in  a  heavy  gilt  frame. 

For  a  long  time  old  Jeffrys  stood  there  with  his  gaze 
riveted  upon  the  picture. 

It  affected,  fascinated  him. 

The  face  was  one  of  great  beauty  and,  strange  to 
say,  it  resembled  the  features  of  his  son  and  heir. 

In  short,  it  was  the  picture  of  his  dead  wife  and 
Dan's  mother,  and  he  often  stood  for  hours  before  the 
painting,  proud  of  her  ancestry  and  his  as  well. 


150  A  Pistol  in   His   Face. 

Meanwhile  Dan  was  scurrying  across  the  country, 
over  roads  which  he  knew  as  the  sailor  knows  the  sea. 

The  fresh  horse  carried  him  wtII  and  now  and  then 
he  looked  at  his  pistols,  for  he  was  liable  to  encounter 
Black  Gorman  or  men  of  his  ilk,  and  should  be  do  so,  a 
fight  would   surely  follow. 

It  was  late,  late  in  the  night,  when  Red  Dan  drew 
rein. 

The  outlines  of  an  old  mansion  stood  before  him. 

It  stood  on  a  gentle  rise  and  the  young  man  muttered 
to  himself  as  he  rode  forward  again. 

He  saw  a  light  in  one  of  the  large  windows  on  the 
lower  floor  just  beyond  the  porch,  and  as  he  drew 
nearer  he  thought  he  distinguished  voices  in  the  house. 

Holding  the  lines  in  one  of  his  hands,  he  crossed  the 
veranda  and  rapped  lightly  on  the  door. 

In  an  instant  there  was  a  sharp  little  cry  on  the  in- 
side and  he  smiled  to  himself. 

Footsteps  came  toward  the  door  and  a  voice  said : 

"Who's  there  r 

'A  friend,"  answered  Red  Dan. 

'A  friend  to  liberty  ?" 

'Certainly." 

"Whither  comest  thou  ?" 

The  young  royalist  hesitated.  There  might  be  a 
certain  signal  wanted  to  gain  admission  and  he  was  at 
his  wits'  end  just  how  to  proceed. 


« 


« 


t<t 


A  Pistol  in  His  Face.  151 


"I  come  from  the  camps,"  he  said,  at  last,  hoping  he 
had  found  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty. 

The  next  moment  he  heard  some  one  unbarring  the 
heavy  portal  and  then  the  door  swung  slowly  open. 

Red  Dan  thrust  his  body  inside  and  as  the  Hght  that 
prevailed  fell  upon  his  face  there  was  a  cry,  and  two 
young  girls  with  white  faces  fell  back. 

"You?"  cried  one  of  the  frightened  pair.  "Of  all 
men,  you?" 

A  smile  wreathed  Dan's  lips  and  he  seemed  to  laugh 
inwardly  at  the  speaker's  fright. 

"You  can't  remain  here,"  continued  the  fair  speaker, 
recovering  in  a  moment.  "This  is  no  place  for  one 
who  serves  King  George." 

"That's  why  I'm  here." 

"You  would  have  hanged  my  uncle,"  said  the  other 
girl.  "You  had  me  bound  and  left  me  to  die  in  the 
old  house." 

"But  it  seems  you  didn't  die  there,  Mistress  Dora," 
grinned  the  scion  of  the  house  of  Jeffrys. 

"It  was  not  your  fault  that  I  did  not." 

"But  I  came  to  see  you,  Mistress  Alice,"  resumed 
Dan,  turning  to  Alice  Callaway,  who  had  not  taken 
her  eyes  from  his  face.  "I  ask  you  to  become  the  wife 
of  Daniel  Jeffrys,  of  Jeffrys  Hall." 

Alice  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"Your  wife,  sir?  The  wife  of  one  who  serves  the 
greatest  tyrant  across  the  seas?     Out  yonder  in  the 


152  A  Pistol  in  His  Face. 

garden  under  the  oak  is  a  grave  that  ought  to  answer 
your  demand.     Your  wife,  never !" 

"That's  pretty  short,  Mistress  Alice.  These  are  war 
times  and  one  cannot  be  expected  to  woo  after  the  es- 
tablished manner.     You  will  not,  then?" 

"I  will  not !" 

"But  you  shall!  I  swear  it  by  the  soul  of  my 
mother " 

"This  is  my  hour  of  vengeance,  Red  Dan!"  cried 
Dora,  at  that  moment,  and  the  young  dragoon  found 
himself  looking  into  the  barrel  of  a  pistol  which  almost 
touched  his  face,  and  he  saw,  moreover,  that  the  wea- 
pon was  held  tightly  by  the  old  blacksmith's  niece. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOW  RED  DAN  WENT  HOME. 

Red  Dan  stood  for  a  moment  appalled  when  he  saw 
the  deadly  menace  of  the  pistol  thrust  into  his  face  by 
the  blacksmith's  niece. 

He  had  a  rig-ht  to  believe  that  his  career  was  about 
to  terminate,  for  there  was  a  dangerous  flash  in  Dora's 
eyes  and  her  hand  was  as  steady  as  that  of  a  bravo. 

"I  promised  myself  that  the  time  for  vengeance 
should  come,"  the  daring  girl  repeated.  "You  have 
come  hither  for  doom.  Red  Dan." 

The  white  finger  touched  the  easy  trigger. 

The  young  Tory  could  only  look  into  the  muzzle  of 
the  pistol  and  count  the  remaining  seconds  of  his  life. 

But  for  a  hand  that  shot  toward  Dora's  arm  he 
would  have  reeled  from  the  deadly  flash  to  fall  dead 
on  the  porch. 

With  a  cry  Alice  clutched  the  arm  of  her  friend  and 
held  it  firmly. 

They  hanged  your  father!"  cried  Dora. 
T  know,"  replied  Alice,  clinging  to  the  slender  arm. 
"I  know,  Dora,  dear,  but " 


<<' 


<<i 


"Would  you  avenge  him  ?    Remember  your  oath. 
"Not  now.    The  time  will  come." 


)> 


154         How    Red    Dan  Went  Home. 

Dora  with  a  look  at  her  companion  lowered  the  wea- 
pon and  Red  Dan  was  saved — saved  for  another  fate. 

"Now  go!  The  night  is  behind  you,"  commanded 
Alice. 

He  hesitated. 

"Go  r 

He  saw  a  look  in  the  speaker's  eyes  which  told  him 
that  he  might  press  her  patience  too  far. 

His  mad  mission  had  failed;  that  was  evident  now. 

He  would  have  to  turn  back. 

Stepping  aside,  he  smiled  and  touched  his  hat  to 
the  two  girls,  then  dexterously  leaped  from  the  porch 
and  ran  to  his  horse. 

"Confound  them,  I  will  get  even !"  he  hissed  to  him- 
self, as  he  sprang  to  saddle.  "This  war  is  not  yet 
over.  I  will  bring  the  beauty  of  Callaway  Manor  to 
terms  some  other  time." 

If  he  could. 

In  another  second  a  horse  was  flying  through  the 
night. 

The  noble  animal  stretched  away,  keeping  to  the 
winding  road  that  lay  before  him  and  at  times  almost 
unseating  his  mad  rider  by  the  boughs  that  crossed  it. 

Red  Dan  was  beside  himself  with  rage.  To  think 
that  he  had  been  foiled  by  two  girls  was  exasperating, 
to  say  the  least. 

Some  other  time !  The  expression  surged  through 
his  brain  like  a  wave  of  flame. 


How    Red    Dan  Went    Home.  155 

Suddenly  he  became  aware  that  he  was  not  the  only 
person  on  the  road  that  night. 

His  alert  ears  caught  the  sound  of  hoofs  behind  him. 

Qearly,  to  his  suspicious  mind,  he  was  being  pur- 
sued. 

On,  on  he  went,  giving  his  steed  a  free  rein  and 
leaning  forward  in  the  saddle.  He  was  a  splendid 
rider  and  knew  all  the  tricks  of  horsemanship. 

Louder  and  louder  the  sounds  behind  him  grew; 
they  rang  in  his  ears  like  the  hoofs  of  some  demon 
horse. 

"Why  not  stop  and  ambush  the  fiend?"  he  suddenly 
said.  "I  can  turn  the  tables  on  the  enemy.  Why 
not  ?" 

But  he  did  not  know  who  was  chasing  him.  He 
could  not  cross  the  intervening  space,  not  even  with 
his  keen  vision,  and  discern  the  man  behind  him. 

Then,  there  was  the  uncertainty  of  meeting  his  su- 
perior, for  sometimes  the  ambushed  party  wins  the 
victory. 

Something  had  to  be  done,  and  Red  Dan  had  to 
think  quickly,  for  the  unseen  was  gaining  on  him. 

Suddenly,  with  the  ambush  idea  full  in  his  brain,  he 
drew  rein. 

To  his  surprise  the  other  one  stopped,  too. 

Visions  of  a  wild  Whig  rider  flashed  through  his 
mind;  he  could  not  keep  them  out. 


356         How    Red    Dan  Went    Home. 


At  last  he  reached  a  bend  in  the  road.  The  unseen 
was  now  but  a  few  lengths  behind  him. 

Drawing  his  pistols  Red  Dan,  with  bated  breath, 
waited  for  his  adversary. 

Clearly  he  was  now  riding  into  the  trap,  and  while 
Dan  waited  he  stilled  his  wildly  beating  heart  and 
nerved  himself  for  the  encounter. 

In  another  moment  his  foe  would  dash  by  and  then 
— the  pistols ! 

He  counted  the  breaths  he  drew  and  listened.  Down 
the  road,  lit  up  by  patches  of  starlight,  came  the  gal- 
loping person. 

Like  a  flash  he  came  up  with  the  young  Tory. 

But  such  a  man ! 

Forgetting  the  cocked  weapons  he  held  in  his  hands, 
the  scion  of  Jeffrys  Hall  glared  with  his  eyes  nearly 
starting  from  their  sockets. 

He  saw  a  huge  person  seated  on  a  black  horse,  a 
man  with  a  wild,  bearded  face. 

He  saw  more  than  this.  He  saw  something  per- 
forming great  circles  about  the  man's  head,  whether 
sword,  club  or  hammer  he  could  not  at  first  make  out. 

But  he  soon  solved  the  myster>%  for  he  saw  that  it 
was  a  huge  hammer  fastened  on  a  handle  as  long  as 
a  giant's  arm. 

This  is  what  the  demon  of  the  night  was  swinging 
round  his  head,  for  he  was  hatless,  and  the  impetus 


How    Red    Dan  Went   Home.  157 

of  his  wild  gallop  was  throwing  his  shock  of  hair  in 
many  directions. 

"The  imp  of  darkness !"  cried  Red  Dan.  "From 
whence  came  that  fiend?" 

The  rider  of  the  night  was  past  in  a  moment  and 
then  the  Tory's  courage  came  back. 

He  leveled  both  pistols  at  the  giant  and  fired. 

Both  reports  blended  into  one,  there  w^as  a  loud 
shout  and  the  black  horse  seemed  to  halt. 

"Hit !"  said  the  young  royalist.  "There  was  a  good 
deal  of  luck  in  that." 

When  he  looked  again  he  saw  both  horse  and  rider 
on  the  ground  near  him. 

'Winged  !    Why  not  finish  the  fiend  ?" 

He  spurred  his  steed  to  the  spot  without  stopping  to 
reload,  then  leaped  to  the  ground  and  ran  forward 
with  clubbed  weapon. 

In  another  moment  he  fell  back,  uttering  a  gasping 
cry,  for  the  unhorsed  demon  had  sprung  to  his  feet 
and  was  making  at  him  with  the  circling  hammer. 

"Down  with  King  George !"  yelled  the  fiend  of  the 
night.     "Death  to  tyranny  in  North  America!" 

Surely  he  had  heard  that  voice  before.  In  the  brief 
time  he  was  left  to  prepare  for  the  conflict  he  tried  to 
recall  when  and  where. 

Like  a  flash  of  light  the  truth  broke  in  upon  his 
brain. 

He  had  heard  that  cry  last  in  Greene's  camp. 


158  How    Red    Dan  Went   Home. 


He  heard  it  when  Jackson  leaped  upon  him  in  the  old 
hut. 

He  was  face  to  face  with  that  madman  again,  and 
practically  at  his  mercy. 

Red  Dan,  with  the  desperation  born  of  despair, 
threw  one  of  his  pistols  straight  at  the  madman's  face. 

It  missed  its  mark  by  a  hair,  but  did  not  check  the 
plunger. 

On  he  came,  the  wild  hammer  making  concentric 
circles  in  the  air  and  Dan,  in  fear  of  it,  threw  out  his 
arm. 

Down  went  that  member  as  the  weapon  struck  it, 
and  then  darkness  blotted  out  consciousness. 

When  he  came  back  to  life  he  was  lying  on  a  bed  of 
moss  with  the  stars  above  him. 

At  first  he  could  not  recall  the  events  of  the  night, 
but  gradually  they  came  back  to  him. 

Where  he  was  he  did  not  know.  The  region  seemed 
strange  to  him  and  his  head  was  filled  with  a  thousand 
aches  and  pains. 

Suddenly  there  rose  before  him  the  curse  of  the 
night,  the  madman  with  the  hammer. 

Red  Dan  fastened  his  gaze  upon  the  fiend  and  studied 
him  for  a  moment. 

Now  he  would  know  his  doom.  He  saw  the  bearded 
face  bend  over  him  and  heard  issue  from  the  throat  a 
laugh  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a  Malay. 


How    Red    Dan  Went   Home.  159 

"Red  Dan  go  home,"  laughed  the  madman.  "He 
meet  old  Jackson  and  Jackson  take  him  to  the  hall.'* 

What !  That  man  take  him  home  after  beating  him 
down  with  the  terrible  hammer? 

He  did  not  reply  for  fear  of  irritating  the  fiend, 
whom  he  now  believed  was  truly  insane,  but  looked 
up  into  the  leaping  eyes  and  darkish  face. 

"Red  Dan  did  not  die  by  Greene's  rope ;  ha !  ha !" 
continued  Jackson,  excitedly.  "Old  Jackson  did  not 
choke  him  hard  enough.  Where  have  you  been.  Red 
Dan  ?" 

"That  is  my  business." 

"Of  course  it  is,  and  it  is  Jackson's  duty  to  take 
you  home.     You  stole  the  papers  and " 

"I  never  found  them." 

"You  led  the  Tories  to  the  old  forge  and  carried  off 
my  tools.  You  were  the  hyena  of  that  night.  Now 
you  go  back  to  the  hall  with  Jackson." 

Dan  was  lifted  from  the  ground  and  placed  on  the 
back  of  his  horse,  which  stood  near.  His  hands  were 
lashed  at  his  back  and  his  feet  bound  to  the  sides  of 
the  animal." 

There  was  no  escape  from  this  old  madman. 

"Is  the  old  Tory  waiting  for  his  boy  ?"  queried  Jack- 
son, leering  into  his  captive's  face. 

"I  cannot  say." 

"He  is  the  wolf  that  owns  you  for  his  own.  He  is 
for  the  king.'* 


i6o         How    Red    Dan  Went   Home. 

**He  is  royalist,  if  you  must  know  it." 

"That  dooms  him,  the  old  wolf!  Ha!  ha!  Now 
off  we  are." 

Red  Dan  yearned  for  a  loose  hand  with  a  pistol  in  it. 

He  wanted  to  thrust  the  weapon  against  Jackson's 
head  and  scatter  his  brains  along  the  road. 

But  he  was  helpless,  not  only  helpless,  but  in  the 
hands  of  a  crazy  man  whose  thoughts  might  in  a  mo- 
ment turn  to  murder. 

The  two  horses  galloped  along  side  by  side,  Jackson 
holding  the  bridle  rein  of  Dan's  steed  and  always 
watching  his  owner  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

*'01d  man  wants  to  see  his  son,  eh?"  he  would  say, 
now  and  then.     "Well,  he  shall." 

Dan  said  nothing  in  reply  to  such  spurts  on  his  cap- 
tor's part. 

The  road  seemed  interminable  to  the  young  Tory, 
but  all  the  time  he  knew  that  he  was  nearing  home. 

Midnight  had  slipped  by  and  the  stars  of  morning 
were  in  the  clear  ether. 

Now  the  landscape,  what  he  could  make  out,  was 
familiar  to  him ;  he  saw  many  things  that  reminded 
him  of  boyhood  and  home. 

The  horses  crossed  a  little  stream  and  then  climbed 
the  rise  near  the  hall. 

All  at  once  Jackson  leaned  toward  his  prisoner  and 
cut  the  bonds  that  held  him. 

Free  at  last! 


How    Red    Dan  Went   Home.  i6i 

A  gleam  of  joy  lit  up  Red  Dan's  eye  for  a  moment 
and  he  looked  at  the  mad  blacksmith. 

Oh,  for  a  pistol  or  a  knife,  and  he  would  lay  the 
fiend  dead  on  the  roadside! 

''This  is  your  homecoming,  Red  Dan,"  suddenly 
cried  Jackson,  as  his  right  hand  fastened  like  a  vise  at 
the  young  Tory's  throat.  "You  go  back  to  the  old 
wolf  dead!" 

"Heavens !"  was  all  Dan  could  articulate,  as  he  tried 
to  shrink  from  that  terrible  hand,  but  in  vain. 

It  was  not  to  be  broken  loose  by  any  strength  of  his, 
and  he  was  an  athlete. 

He  struggled  as  best  he  could ;  he  tried  to  twist  out 
ot  the  saddle,  but  such  was  not  to  be. 

"Mer— cy!"  he  gasped.     "Mer " 

The  word  was  broken  on  his  lips. 

His  captor  laughed;  he  saw — and  it  was  the  very 
last  thing  he  did  see — the  devilish  face  of  the  insane 
blacksmith. 

''Home,  Red  Dan  ;  ha !  ha  !"  laughed  the  fiend.  "You 
have  come  back  to  JeflFrys  Hall." 

Those  were  the  last  words  the  young  Tory  ever 
heard  this  side  his  grave. 

Old  Jackson,  rendered  mad  by  the  passions  of  the 
war,  leaned  toward  his  victim  and  sank  his  dark 
fingers  deeper  into  the  discolored  throat. 

Red  Dan  was  as  limber  as  a  rag  in  his  grip. 

All  at   once  Jackson   sprang   from  his   horse  and. 


1 62  How    Red    Dan  Went   Home. 

dragging  his  victim  after  him,  rushed  toward  the 
manor  house  near  at  hand. 

He  plunged  across  the  broad  veranda  and  struck 
the  oaken  door  with  his  clinched  fist. 

A  cry  inside  told  that  the  summons  had  been  heard. 

Bolts  shot  back  and  the  door  swung  open. 

A  haughty-looking  old  man  with  white  hair  con- 
fronted the  madman  of  the  Carolinas. 

"Your  spawn's  come  home,  Austin  Jeffrys !"  cried 
Jackson.  "The  king  has  no  further  use  for  this  piece, 
of  treachery !" 

The  following  moment  something  fell  at  Austin 
Jf'ffvys'  feet  and  Jackson  fell  back.  The  old  man  ut- 
tered a  wild  cry  and  held  the  light  near  the  floor. 
Then,  seeing  the  face  of  his  son,  whom  he  knew  was 
dead,  he  swooned  across  the  body. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  DANGEROUS   MISSION. 

"Gen.  Greene  would  like  to  see  you." 

These  words,  addressed  to  Rodney  Black  by  Col. 
Washington,  a  few  days  after  the  last  adventures, 
caused  the  boy  partisan  to  start  slightly. 

The  American  army  lay  near  Camden,  which  was 
occupied  by  Lord  Rawdon,  who  had  fortified  it 
strongly. 

Both  commanders  were  watching  each  other,  and, 
though  Greene's  force  was  greatly  reduced,  he  did  not 
shirk  the  danger  that  menaced  him. 

Rodney  at  once  made  his  way  to  Greene's  head- 
quarters. 

He  found  his  general  alone  in  his  tent,  where  he 
was  received  with  marked  cordiality,  for  Greene  was 
proud  of  his  young  recruits,  but  in  a  moment  a  seri- 
ous expression  settled  over  the  chieftain's  face. 

"They  tell  me,  boy,  that  you  are  acquainted  in  and 
about  Camden?" 

*T  have  been  to  the  town  frequently  and  the  sur- 
rounding country  is  almost  home  to  me." 

"So  much  the  better." 

Rodney  was  silent ;  he  felt  what  was  coming. 

"I  wish  some  information  as  to  the  intentions  of 


164  The  Dangerous   Mission. 

the  enemy,"  said  Greene.  *'I  want  to  learn  the  dis- 
position of  his  forces,  his  real  strength,  and  so  forth. 
If  you  could  get  into  his  camp " 

"I  do  not  think  that  part  of  it  would  be  difficult/' 
broke  in  Rodney,  eager  to  help  the  cause  in  any  man- 
ner that  offered  itself.    "I  am  at  your  service,  general." 

Pleased  with  the  young  Whig's  willingness,  Greene 
proceeded : 

"There  is  but  one  person  whom  you  need  fear,"  he 
said,  "and  that  is  your  old  personal  enemy,  Capt. 
Samson.  But  just  now,  from  the  last  information  I 
have  received  concerning  him,  Sumter  is  making  it 
warm  for  him  along  the  Catawba." 

"I  have  heard  that,  too." 

"You  will  exercise  the  greatest  care  in  your  trip. 
The  question  of  disguise  I  leave  entirely  with  you." 

"May  I  not  take  Jack  with  me?" 

"Your  young  friend,  you  mean  ?  Well,  as  two  pairs 
of  eyes  are  sometimes  better  than  one,  I  do  not  know 
but  what  that  would,  in  this  case,  be  a  good  idea." 

"Then  Jack  will  go.  I  have  not  asked  him,  of 
course,  but  he  won't  refuse ;  I  know  that." 

Gen.  Greene  proceeded  and  gave  some  minute  in- 
structions as  to  the  service  he  expected  of  his  young 
spy  and  again  admonished  him  to  exercise  the  greatest 
care. 

When  Rodney  was  ready  to  leave  the  tent,  Greene 


The  Dangerous   Mission.  165 

came  forward  and  took  him  by  the  hand.  It  was  a 
proud  moment  for  the  young  Whig. 

"I  must  thank  you  for  what  you  have  already  done 
for  the  cause,"  he  said,  looking  kindly  from  his  deep 
blue  eyes.  "Gen.  Washington  has  heard  of  your  ex- 
ploits at  Guildford  and  I  was  proud  to  report  them. 
We  are  going  to  win  in  this  war.  The  light  is  breaking 
in,  even  though  it  looks  dark  in  some  localities.  This  is 
the  seventh  year  of  hostilities.  We  have  aid  from 
France,  but  believe  me,  my  boy,  the  eagle  of  liberty 
ere  long  will  bathe  his  plumage  in  the  sun  and  there 
will  be  no  royal  banner  to  kiss  the  breezes  in  North 
America." 

Rodney  noted  the  fervor  with  which  Greene  spoke 
and  it  thrilled  him. 

"That,  too,  is  my  belief,"  he  exclaimed.  "We  will 
yet  see  Cornwallis  entrapped." 

*T  believe  he  is  even  now  treading  the  high  road 
to  doom.  Washington  and  Rochambeau  are  on  the 
alert  and,  between  the  two,  I  believe  this  scarlet  fox 
will  be  trapped." 

A  hearty  hand  grasp  followed  these  words  and  Rod- 
ney withdrew  to  make  ready  for  his  perilous  mission. 

Jack  was  as  eager  to  enter  Camden  as  was  his  friends 

The  tvv^o  boys  did  not  confer  long  together. 

As  the  long  shadows  of  the  April  dusk  fell  over  the 
camp  of  the  enemy  a  dilapidated  wagon,  drawn  by  an 
equally  poor  mule,  reached  Rawdon's  picket  line. 


l66  The  Dangerous  Mission. 


nie  two  country-dressed  boys  who  occupied  the  one 
seat  of  the  vehicle  pulled  up  short  at  the  guard's  chal- 
lenge and  appeared  to  be  unfamiliar  with  military 
usages, 

"Can't  we  get  through  without  the  word?  Is  that 
it  ?" 

"You've  got  to  have  the  countersign,"  was  the  reply. 
"What  do  you  think  they've  stationed  me  here  for?" 

'*To  keep  the  rebels  from  coming  too  close.  Say, 
when  you  hang  Greene  and  his  ragamuffins  I  wish  you 
would  send  us  word.  You'll  find  us  over  on  the  creek 
• — Tom  Spencer  and  Ned  Bushnell.  I  guess  we'd  run 
half  the  night  to  see  a  lot  o'  rebels  dangling  from 
trees.     Eh,  wouldn't  we,  Ned?" 

*7ust  try  us,  Mr.  Redcoat." 

"Well,  if  I'm  not  very  much  mistaken  you'll  hear 
of  the  biggest  hanging  these  parts  ever  saw  before 
long." 

"Good !"  and  Rodney,  who  was  Tom  Spencer  for  the 
time,  slapped  his  companion  on  the  back. 

"I  say,  Mr.  Guard,  how  would  you  like  a  drink  o* 

cider?" 

"Come,  they  don't  make  cider  this  time  o'  year." 
"But  we  make  it  in  the  fall  and  bury  it  in  jugs  in 

the  cellar  for  winter  and  spring." 

The  picket's  lips  were  seen  to  water  at  the  bare 
thought  of  a  drink  of  cider. 


The  Dangerous  Mission.  167 

■I — ___ _ 

*Tom"  reached  under  the  hay,  which  partly  filled 
the  bed  of  the  wagon,  and  produced  a  jug. 

Handing  it  to  the  soldier,  he  told  him  to  help  himself. 

"Keep  the  whole  jug,"  laughed  "Tom"  at  the  man's 
piggishness,  for  he  had  uncorked  the  jug  and  the  cider 
was  staining  his  uniform  in  his  haste  to  get  all  of  it 
down  his  throat  at  once.  "We've  got  some  more  here 
for  the  general " 

"For  Rawdon?  That's  clever.  Well,  go  and  let  him 
sample  it.  It's  sharp  enough  to  make  his  eyes  snap. 
You're  for  the  king,  of  course?" 

"Would  we  want  an  invitation  to  a  rebel  hanging 
if  we  were  for  Greene  and  Washington?"  queried 
"Ned." 

"Certamly  not." 

The  boys  drove  on  and  left  the  sentry  helping  him- 
self to  the  cider,  which  had  been  procured  by  Greene 
from  one  of  the  bitterest  rebels  in  the  district.  The  in- 
gredients put  into  it  for  preservation  had  given  it  a 
twang  sharp  enough  to  make  men  fight  well. 

Presently  the  little  wagon  wabbled  into  the  town  of 
Camden — wabbled  is  the  proper  word,  for  the  wheels 
did  not  track  and  the  spokes  were  loose. 

They  did  not  excite  much  interest,  for  country  peo- 
ple came  to  the  camp  with  early  produce,  which  the 
troops  bought  up  eagerly,  paying  in  British  gold,  for 
the  continental  money  of  those  days  was  not  worth 
the  paper  it  was  printed  on. 


1 68  The  Dangerous   Mission. 


A  few  straggling  houses  were  all  that  made  up  the 
village  of  Camden,  the  scene  of  Gen.  Gates'  defeat 
earlier  in  the  war  and  the  spot  where  that  officer  is 
said  to  have  exchanged  his  "Northern  laurels  for  South- 
ern willows." 

The  boy  spies  drove  down  the  one  poor  street,  look- 
ing as  innocent  as  country  boys  could  and  observing 
everything  warlike  that  crossed  their  vision. 

At  length  they  pulled  up  in  front  of  a  house  which 
appeared  to  be  occupied  by  some  officer  of  distinction, 
for  a  flag  waved  over  it  and  a  red-coated  sentry  of 
gigantic  proportions  paced  back  and  forth  in  front  of  it. 

"Move  on,  there !"  growled  the  guard,  as  he  spied 
the  boys.     "This  is  not  Raggamuffin  Street." 
'What's  that?"  cried  "Tom." 

T  say  we  don't  keep  crowbaits  at  this  inn.    This  is 
Lord  Rawdon's  headquarters." 

"Oh !' 

"And  where  might  his  excellency  be?"  asked  Jack. 

"Out  of  your  reach,  of  course,"  grinned  the  soldier. 

"Do  you  think  we  want  to  eat  him  ?" 

"No,  but  the  crows  will  eat  that  animal  if  you  don't 
keep  'im  on  the  go." 

The  boys  laughed  heartily  at  this  sally. 

Just  then  a  well-dressed  soldier  stepped  from  the 
house  and  the  sentry  drew  up  and  saluted. 

He  w^ore  a  magnificent  uniform,  was  stately  in  ap- 
pearance and  carried  an  elegant  sword. 


<<i 


((■ 


The  Dangerous   Mission.  169 


Rodney  and  Jack  stared  at  him  with  well-put-on 
curiosity,  then  they  ventured  to  inquire  the  way  to 
Deepdale.  Deepdale  was  a  crossroads  just  beyond  the 
camp,  and  a  place  of  no  particular  importance. 

Lord  Rawdon,  for  the  handsome  officer  w^as  the  com- 
mander of  the  British  army,  turned  toward  the  wagon 
at  the  query. 

"Where  are  you  from,  boys  ?"  he  inquired. 

"From  over  the  hills." 

"What's  the  news?" 

"We  don't  hunt  it  up,  sir,  but  the  rebel,  Greene,  says 
he  is  going  to  wallop  Lord  Rawdon  one  of  these  days." 

A  smile  wreathed  the  general's  lips  and  he  broke  into 
a  laugh. 

"So  he  says  this,  does  he?  Going  to  whip  Lord 
Rawdon?    Well,  what  do  you  think,  boys?" 

"We  can't  tell  till  we've  seen  what  you  have  to  whip 
him  with." 

"There  is  something  in  that,"  was  the  amused  reply. 
"Well,  when  you  go  back  over  the  hills  just  stop  and 
tell  this  rebel,  Greene,  that  Lord  Rawdon  doubts  his 
ability  to  carry  out  his  boast." 

"Be  you  Lord  Rawdon  ?" 

"At  your  service,  young  sirs,"  smiled  the  general, 
with  a  mock  bow. 

Rodney  now  produced  a  jug  from  beneath  the  hay 
and  extended  it  toward  Rawdon. 

"What's  that?" 


lyo  The  Dangerous   Mission. 


t(i 


'Cider,  some  we  made  last  fall  and  kept  over.  It's 
prime  and  fine." 

The  British  officer  called  an  aide  from  the  house  and 
bade  him  take  possession  of  the  jug. 

'^Here's  another,  general,"  said  Rodney,  bringing  the 
second  one  to  light.  "We  hope  you'll  soon  make  their 
Gen.  Greene  take  to  his  heels." 

*'Make  him  run  ?  Like  a  hare !"  laughed  Rawdon, 
pleased  with  the  present  of  the  cider,  of  which  he  was 
very  fond.  "Make  yourselves  at  home  in  camp,  young 
sirs.  Don't  be  backward.  You've  already  paid  for 
your  keeping,"  and  with  this  Rawdon  walked  back  into 
the  house. 

Getting  into  the  good  graces  of  the  British  com- 
mander had  proceeded  as  well  as  the  young  spies  could 
wish  and  they  drove  away  with  light  hearts. 

During  the  next  half  hour  they  had  made  the  rounds 
of  the  camp,  noting  the  fortifications,  the  positions  of 
the  batteries,  the  numbers  of  the  soldiers  of  all  arms 
and,  in  short,  seeing  everything  that  promised  to  be 
of  service  to  the  patriot  cause. 

When  they  turned  back  toward  Rawdon's  head- 
quarters they  had  but  one  jug  of  cider  left. 

"For  an  emergency,"  said  Rodney.  "For  the  picket, 
you  know,  Jack." 

They  drove  slowly  back  down  the  winding  street. 

The  day  had  vanished  and  camp  fires  were  burning 
everywhere. 


The  Dangerous   Mission.  171 

Around  them  the  red-coated  soldiers  were  discussing 
their  suppers  and  the  campaign. 

It  was  no  secret  in  camp  that  the  British  would  soon 
move  out  and  fall  upon  Greene. 

They  greatly  outnumbered  him  and  hoped  to  inflict 
upon  him  a  terrible  defeat,  after  which  they  believed 
there  would  be  nothing  left  of  the  rebel  cause  in  the 
two  Carolinas. 

When  near  headquarters  the  wagon  was  surrounded 
by  half  a  dozen  soldiers,  who  loudly  demanded  cider. 

They  miCnaced  the  drowsy  mule  with  their  bayonets, 
thrust  their  guns  beneath  the  hay  and  demanded  drink. 

In  order  to  get  rid  of  the  boisterous  lot,  Rodney 
was  forced  to  produce  the  last  jug,  but  it  was  like 
throwing  a  shrimp  to  a  whale. 

In  a  few  moments  every  particle  of  hay  was  pulled 
from  the  wagon,  the  vehicle  itself  threatened  with 
destruction  and  the  safety  of  the  young  spies  seri- 
ouslv  menaced. 

''More  to-morrow,"  cried  Rodney.  "Stand  back 
there  or  we'll  report  you  to  your  general." 

"Precious  little  satisfaction  you'll  get,"  was  the  retort. 

The  young  Whig  struck  the  animal  with  the  keen 
switch  and  the  mule  started  oflf. 

But  the  soldiers  crowded  closer  and  demanded  cider, 
even  after  they  had  received  evidence  that  the  very 
last  had  been  given  them. 

They  clung  to  the  wheels  of  the  wagon,  and  taxed 


172  The  Dangerous   Mission. 

the  pulling  powers  of  the  animal  in  the  shafts,  Rodney 
the  while  belaboring  the  poor  creature  with  all  his 
might. 

They  reached  the  space  in  front  of  Rawdon's  head- 
quarters at  last. 

Hearing  the  uproar,  that  officer  looked  out  and  was 
immediately  spied  by  the  young  spies. 

*'Help,  general !"  appealed  Rodney,  fearlessly. 
**They  are  trying  to  kill  our  mule." 

Rawdon  with  a  laugh  turned  suddenly  back  into  the 
house. 

"Here,  captain,"  they  heard  him  say  to  some  one  as 
yet  unseen. 

"Here,  Capt.  Samson,  are  the  youngsters  who 
brought  the  cider." 

Capt.  Samson! 

The  name  seemed  to  chill  the  blood  in  the  veins  of 
our  young  heroes. 

Were  they  to  be  betrayed  by  their  worst  enemy — the 
man  who  wanted  their  blood  ?    It  seemed  so. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  BORDER  LINE  OF  DOOM. 

Fortunately  and  unfortunately  for  the  imperiled 
young  patriots  the  man  who  appeared  in  the  doorway 
in  response  to  Lord  Rawdon's  call  was  not  in  a  very 
good  condition  to  betray  them. 

A  glance  at  him  told  them  that  it  was  the  redoubt- 
able Capt.  Samson,  and  therefore  their  old  adversary. 

He  had  just  returned  from  a  foraying  expedition  in 
which  he  had  been  severely  handled  by  a  detachment 
of  Americans,  who  had  left  several  of  his  followers  on 
the  field. 

The  captain  had  taken  the  nearest  route  to  the  Brit- 
ish army,  which  he  knew  lay  at  Camden,  and  by  dint  of 
hard  riding  had  escaped  his  foes. 

Not  only  this,  but  he  had  plundered  a  wine  cellar 
belonging  to  a  prominent  Whig  and  had  partaken 
heartily  of  its  contents. 

As  he  swaggered  out  of  the  house  and  threw  a 
glance  in  the  direction  of  the  boy  spies  he  uttered  a 
hoarse  cry  and  looked  again  at  the  British  commander. 

"Gave  you  some  cider,  did  they,  general?"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"Yes;  you  have  just  tasted  it,  captain." 


174  T"^^  Border  Line  of  Doom. 


((■^ 


lit 


"So  I  had  and  it's  sharp  enough  to  make  one  fight. 
We'll  try  some  more." 

With  this  he  came  toward  the  wagon  intent  on 
robbing  it  of  its  contents,  especially  if  they  consisted  of 
cider  jugs. 

The  boys  put  on  the  boldest  front  possible. 

*'Hand  it  out,  youngsters !"  cried  Capt.  Samson, 
'We're  just  out,  sir,"  said  Jack. 
'Come !  come !     Hand  out  your  goods,  I  say.     I 
want  to  drink  the  king's  health  and  confusion  to  Wash- 
ington and  his  rabble." 

But  the  boys  gently  insisted  that  they  did  not  have 
any  more  of  the  desired  article,  and  even  went  so  far  as 
to  express  sorrow  over  their  failure  to  supply  the  needs 
of  the  Tory  captain. 

Capt.  Samson  was  now  at  the  front  wheel,  looking 
up  into  their  faces. 

The  crucial  test  had  come  and  they  both  felt  that 
the  searching  eyes  of  the  Tory  was  reading  them 
through  their  disguise. 

Lord  Rawdon  stood  near  by  enjoying  Capt.  Sam- 
son's discomfiture. 

"Drive  on,  then,"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  Tory, 
striking  the  mule  with  his  open  hand.  "Don't  stay  here 
if  your  wagon  can't  become  a  commissary  for  the 
army." 

He  turned  away  as  the  animal  started  up  again. 

The  boys  breathed  free  again. 


The  Border  Line  of  Doom.  175 

"Hold  on!"  suddenly  rang  the  voice  of  Capt.  Sam- 
son, in  their  ears.  "Come  back  here.  You  may  be 
rebel  whelps.  It  won't  be  out  of  the  way  to  have  a 
little  inspection." 

This  was  the  last  thing  the  boys  wanted.  It  meant 
betrayal  and  death. 

"Come,  captain,"  said  Lord  Rawdon,  breaking  in, 
"let  us  resume  our  council." 

"No,  siree !  I  intend  to  bring  the  young  sprigs  back 
for  examination.     They  look  like  little  rebels  to  me!" 

"Rebels,  forsooth,  captain  ?  Let  them  go !"  And  to 
the  amusement  of  all  the  British  general  stalked  for- 
ward and,  catching  Capt.  Samson  by  the  collar,  dragged 
him  toward  the  house. 

Little  did  Rawdon  dream  what  he  had  effected  by 
his  interference. 

The  protesting  Tory  was  halted  at  the  door  of  the 
house  and  then  pushed  inside. 

"Saved,  and  by  a  British  general!"  exclaimed 
Rodney. 

"We  are  in  the  woods  yet,"  responded  Jack.  "Capt. 
Samson's  words  may  have  taken  root  in  other  minds 
and '' 

"Halt !" 

A  soldier  had  stepped  out  from  some  shadows  and 
stood  like  a  statue  in  the  road  with  his  bayonet  pre- 
sented toward  them. 

Rodney  immediately  pulled  up. 


<<1 


<(' 


176  The  Border  Line  of  Doom. 

"What's  the  disturbance  down  there  ?"  asked  the  red- 
coat. 

"Oh,"  answered  the  boy,  recovering  in  a  moment, 
**we  gave  away  all  our  cider,  but  they  didn't  want  to  be- 
lieve it.     We're  going  after  more." 

But  you  can't  fetch  another  load  yet  to-night?" 
No,  to-morrow." 

"But  somebody  said  down  there  that  you  might  be 
young  rebels." 

"Only  in  a  joking  manner.  We  rebels?  When 
you  have  the  grand  hanging  of  Greene  and  his  raga- 
muffins call  on  Tom  Spencer  and  Ned  Bushnell,  will 
you  ?" 

"Your  names,  I  take  it?" 

"Yes.     We  live  over  the  hills." 

The  gun  was  lowered  and  the  boys  urged  the  mule 
away. 

"Free  at  last,"  said  Jack.  "I  hope  we've  seen  the 
last  redcoat  for  to-night." 

But  their  troubles  were  not  yet  at  an  end. 

All  at  once  they  heard  a  clatter  of  hoofs  behind  them 
and  a  lot  of  dragoons  came  tearing  up  the  road. 

"Halt !  Turn  round  and  ride  back  to  headquarters !" 
commanded  the  leader  of  the  squadron.  "Lord  Raw- 
don  wants  to  see  you." 

Back  to  Capt.  Samson  and  the  British  general !  The 
thought  filled  the  boy  spies  with  horror. 

Yet  they  could  do  nothing  more  than  obey,  for  the 


The  Border  Line  of  Doom.  177 

troops  completely  surrounded  them  and  there  was  no 
escape. 

Putting  the  best  face  they  could  on  the  troublesome 
matter,  and  permitting  the  dragoons  to  act  as  escort 
just  when  they  thought  they  were  out  of  the  trap,  the 
young  patriots  turned  back. 

In  a  few  seconds  they  were  halted  in  front  of  Lord 
Rawdon's  headquarters  and  awaited  his  lordship. 

Presently  he  emerged  from  the  house  and  came  for- 
ward. 

He  dismissed  the  troops  with  a  wave  of  his  haiid 
and  laid  one  of  his  gauntleted  hands  on  the  rim  of  the 
wheel. 

As  he  looked  into  the  faces  of  the  young  adventurers 
they  felt  that  their  hour  had  come. 

"Young  sirs,"  said  he,  *'do  you  know  Mr.  Austin 
Jefifrys,  of  the  hall?" 

"We've  heard  of  him,"  said  Rodney.  "The  old  man 
who  lives  all  alone  now  ?" 

"Yes,  'tis  he.  He  lost  his  son  and  heir  a  few  days 
ago." 

"I've  seen  the  hall,"  spoke  Jack. 

"Would  you  kindly  take  a  message  to  him  for  me  ?" 

Things  seemed  to  be  coming  their  way  again. 

"We'll  be  glad  to  take  it,  your  lordship.  We  can 
get  it  to  him  to-morrow.'* 

"Very  well.  Then  tell  him  that  by  to-morrow  night 
there  will  be  no  rebel  army  where  now  there  is  one. 


178  The  Border   Line  of   Doom. 

'■  M         M  ■■^»— ■^^M ^.^    Ml  .,  .  —I-  ...  ■      .      - . ^ — — — ■        "  .  —  ■    ■        .  I— ^M^B^M^W 

Tell  him  that  his  old  friend,  Francis  Hastings,  Lord 
Rawdon,  intends  to  sweep  Greene  and  his  horde  from 
the  face  of  the  earth ;  that  by  set  of  sun  to-morrow  his 
son  will  have  been  avenged." 

"Yes,  sir." 

*'And  tell  him  also  for  me,  young  sirs,  that  the 
glorious  end  of  the  war  is  near  at  hand.  I  intend  to 
bring  peace — peace  with  the  sword,  to  the  Carolinas, 
and  before  the  first  birds  of  summer  nest  the  last  rebel 
banner  that  kisses  the  air  within  their  borders  will 
have  been  shot  to  pieces  by  my  guns.  Adieu,  young 
sirs,  and  may  you  live  to  see  King  George  triumph 
over  his  rebellious  colonies." 

He  fell  back,  a  little  the  worse  for  wine  and  cider. 
and  touched  his  hat  to  the  two  young  spies. 

In  another  second  a  giant  figure  nearly  fell  from  the 
door. 

"Stop  'em,  your  lordship!"  this  person  brawled. 
"They  are  young  rebels  and  no  mistake !" 

The  general  laughed  and  glanced  at  the  boys  in  the 
wagon. 

"Don't  forget  my  message,"  he  said.  "And  see  that 
you  deliver  it  to  Austin  Jeffrys  as  early  to-morrow  as 
possible." 

"They're  spies — rebel  spies,  I  say!"  roared  Capt. 
Samson,  almost  too  drunk  to  keep  his  feet.  "I'll  hang 
'em  right  in  your  camp,  and  inside  of  an  hour." 


The  Border  Line  of  Doom.  179 

Rodney  and  Jack  drew  away  as  coolly  as  they  could 
under  the  circumstances. 

It  was  a  trying  moment. 

"Go  back,  captain,  go  back!"  exclaimed  the  general. 
* 'There's  to  be  no  hanging  in  my  camp  to-night." 

"But,  your  lordship,  they  are  spies " 

"Spies  for  whom,  pray?  Boys  are  not  selected  as 
spies.     Captain,   you've  had  too  much  Sumter  late- 

ly " 

iVt  this  the  Tory  roared  with  rage,  but  the  officer 
pushed  him  toward  the  house  and  followed  him  inside. 

Saved  again  by  Lord  Rawdon,  the  two  boys  lost  no 
time  in  getting  out  of  the  camp. 

Not  only  had  they  picked  up  a  good  deal  of  valuable 
information  since  quitting  Greene's  army,  but  they  had 
it  from  the  British  general's  own  lips  that  the  Ameri- 
cans were  to  be  attacked  the  following  day. 

They  had  completely  deceived  Lord  Rawdon  and 
they  owed  their  escape  to  the  fact  that  a  drunken 
Tory  captain  had  not  been  believed  in  his  charges. 

Had  Capt.  Samson  been  sober But  they  dared 

not  think  of  such  a  thing.  They  resolved  to  lose  no 
time  in  getting  back  to  Greene  and  urged  their  ani- 
mal forward  as  fast  as  possible. 

The  space  that  separated  the  two  armies  was  not 
great.  It  was  capable  of  being  traversed  in  a  short 
time  and  the  boys  drove  under  the  stars  with  high 
spirits. 


i8o  The   Border  Line  of  Doom. 

"Pretty  close,  Jack  ?" 

"Uncomfortably  close,"  was  the  reply. 

"NoAv  for  the  picket  line." 

They  turned  from  the  road,  intending  to  avoid  the 
sentry,  but  suddenly  they  beheld  a  soldier  rise  in  front 
of  them  as  if  from  the  ground  itself. 

He  came  forward,  his  musket  thrust  into  their  faces 
and  his  eyes  aflame. 

"Get  out,  you  young  rats !"  he  cried.  "Deliver  over 
that  stolen  wagon." 

"It  is  not  a  stolen  wagon,"  protested  Jack.  "It  be- 
longs to  Mr.  Bushnell,  and  that  is  guarantee  that  it  is 
in  the  right  hands  now,  for  I  am  his  son,  Ned." 

"Get  down,  I  say !  No  pulling  the  wool  over  my 
eyes !" 

Here  was  another  peril  and  the  soldier  had  to  be 
reckoned  with. 

Rodney  appeared  to  acquiesce  in  the  demand,  for 
he  threw  the  lines  over  the  mule's  back  and  began  to 
leave  the  seat. 

All  the  time  he  kept  his  gaze  riveted  upon  the  guard. 

"Why  didn't  they  arrest  you  in  camp?"  continued 
the  redcoat. 

'They  didn't  think  we  were  thieves,  as  you  call  us." 

'Where  were  their  eyes  ?  Anyone  can  see  that  much, 
even  after  dark." 

By  this  time  Rodney  was  fairly  on  the  ground,  while 
Jack  was  in  no  hurry  to  get  down. 


<<' 


in 


The  Border  Line  of   Doom.  i8i 


The  sentry  lowered  his  gun  and  called  out,  loudly : 

**Do  you  want  to  be  jerked  down,  young  sir?  Get 
down  in  a  jiffy  or  down  you  come  without  ceremony." 

The  following  second  something  landed  against  the 
redcoat  and,  with  a  furious  cry,  he  staggered  back  and 
had  his  musket  jerked  from  his  grasp. 

Rodney,  the  young  blacksmith,  had  executed  a  fly- 
nig  leap  and  the  guard  found  himself  disarmed  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye. 

He  tried  to  recover  his  musket,  but  Rodney  threw  it 
above  his  head  and  brought  the  heavy  stock  down  upon 
the  redcoat's  skull,  felling  him  like  a  log. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  minute. 

As  the  soldier  sank  in  a  limp  heap  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  Rodney  threw  the  loaded  gun  into  the  wagon 
and  clambered  over  the  side,  at  the  same  time  striking 
the  obedient  animal  with  his  hand. 

"Now  for  life — straight  ahead !"  he  shouted  in  Jack's 
ear. 

Away  bounded  the  vehicle,  striking  unseen  snags 
and  roots,  the  boys  clinging  to  the  seat  while  they 
breathlessly  tried  to  dodge  the  overhanging  boughs. 

Once  out  into  the  meadlike  country,  they  urged  the 
mule  to  still  better  speed  and  at  last  found  themselves 
miles  from  the  scene  of  danger. 

The  next  ''halt"  that  rano-  in  their  ears  came  from 
the  right  side  of  the  landscape  and  they  passed  Greene's 
pickets. 


1 82  The  Border  Line  of  Doom. 


"Your  message  to  Jeff rys  Hall  ?"  said  Jack.  "What 
about  that?" 

"We'll  deliver  it  after  the  fight." 

"Do  you  think  it  will  come  to-morrow?" 

"Undoubtedly.  Both  armies  are  ready  for  the  fray 
and  Gen.  Greene  doesn't  intend  to  shirk  the  battle  even 
though  the  British  greatly  outnumber  us. 

They  drove  into  the  camp  proper  and,  knowing  that 
Greene  would  be  eager  for  their  report,  went  direct 
to  his  tent.  * 

They  found  him  up,  for  he  had  the  name  of  being  the 
sleepless  general  of  the  Revolution.  No  fatigue  over- 
came him,  no  threatening  danger  ever  found  Nathaniel 
Greene  unprepared  for  it. 

The  boys  told  their  adventures  to  a  man  who  lis- 
tened attentively. 

Greene  smiled  at  times  and  chased  the  weary  ex- 
pression from  his  handsome  face  with  several  little 
laughs. 

"You  can  take  some  rest  now,"  he  said  to  the  young 
spies.  "You  will  need  it,  for  we  fight  to-morrow. 
The  cause  of  liberty  is  God's  cause  as  well,  and  we  will 
see  to  it  that  it  dies  not  in  North  America." 

Immortal  Greene!  He  never  despaired  of  the  re- 
public. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  STARTLING  CONFESSION. 

In  no  portion  of  the  colonies  was  the  struggle  for 
liberty  waged  with  more  bitterness  than  in  the  South. 

Some  of  the  most  heroic  feats  of  the  Revolution 
were  performed  there,  and  under  the  palmettoes  and 
magnolias  the  men  who  won  the  day  against  the  king 
ever  kept  up  a  bold  front  and  not  for  a  moment  re- 
laxed their  vigilance. 

The  names  of  Marion,  Sumter,  Pickens,  Lee,  Wash- 
ington, Huger  have  come  down  to  us  surrounded  by  a 
halo  that  grows  brighter  as  the  years  roll  on,  and  the 
further  we  get  from  those  men  and  others  of  their 
heroic  mold  the  grander  do  they  appear  in  our  sight. 

They  won  their  laurels  in  the  face  of  difficulties  that 
would  have  shaken  the  faith  of  the  most  trusting,  they 
had  to  deal  with  men  in  red  coats  and  in  buckram ;  they 
were  called  from  their  homes  to  take  up  the  sword 
under  the  most  adverse  circumstances  ;  but,  halting  not, 
they  cut  their  way  to  fame  and  freedom. 

The  brave  De  Kalb  fell  at  Camden,  Pulaski  gave  up 
his  life  for  us  at  Savannah,  and  the  battlefields  of  the 
South  during  that  seven  years  of  war  become  the 
bivouac  of  the  dead  for  hundreds  of  gallant  patriots. 


184  A    Startling    Confession. 


Whigs  and  Tories  met  each  other  without  mercy 
and  slaughtered  the  innocent  as  well  as  the  guilty. 

To  be  a  Whig  brought  down  upon  one's  head  the 
vengeance  of  such  men  as  Capt.  Samson,  and  a  Tory 
was  made  to  fly  for  his  life  before  Black  Gorman  and 
his  band. 

Between  these  hot  partisans  quarter  was  seldom 
asked  or  given. 

Trees  bore  human  fruit  all  over  the  South ;  the  rope 
was  in  frequent  demand,  and  women  took  part  in  the 
struggle,  many  of  them  bearing  arms  during  the  bitter 
strife. 

Truthfully  did  Cornwallis  say  that  so  long  as  a 
woman  survived  in  the  Carolinas  the  king  would  never 
conquer  America.  It  was  a  Mrs.  Motte  who  furnished 
Marion  with  fiery  arrows,  which  set  fire  to  her  own 
house,  in  order  to  bring  victory  to  the  banners  of  the 
Swamp  Fox. 

Volumes  might  be  written  on  the  heroism  of  the 
women  of  the  South  during  the  Revolution. 

Their  fame  survives  them  though  a  century  has 
rolled  away. 

It  was  the  same  night  of  the  adventures  of  the 
boy  spies  in  Lord  Rawdon's  camp  that  a  man  rode 
slowly  over  a  road  fringed  with  stately  trees. 

He  was  a  man  of  grief  and  sorrows. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  had  taken  sides  with 


A    Startling    Confession.  185 

the  king,  for  he  was  haughty  and  loved  royalty,  under 
which  he  had  been  nurtured. 

His  last  grief  had  been  the  keenest  of  all. 

Had  not  old  Jackson,  the  mad  blacksmith,  thrown 
his  own  son  dead  at  his  feet? 

Austin  Jeffrys  knew  that  his  hour  was  near  at  hand. 

A  Tory,  he  feared  no  living  man. 

He  had  shut  up  Jeffrys  Hall,  taken  a  last  look  at  the 
portrait  of  his  wife  in  the  lofty  room,  saddled  his  fleet- 
est horse  and  ridden  from  the  plantation. 

His  face  was  turned  toward  Rawdon's  camp. 

It  was  late  when  he  entered  it. 

The  sentinels,  looking  into  the  face  of  the  old  man 
and  hearing  his  name,  stepped  aside  for  him  with  low- 
ered muskets. 

They  seemed  to  feel  that  he  was  on  an  important 
mission,  as  indeed  he  was. 

The  guard  in  front  of  the  general's  headquarters 
stopped  him,  but  let  him  pass. 

There  was  something  stately  and  awe-inspiring  in 
the  presence  of  the  old  Tory  and  they  could  not  refuse 
him  admittance. 

He  found  Rawdon  looking  over  some  maps  and  the 
moment  he  was  seen  he  was  welcomed. 

Lord  Rawdon  stood  clasping  old  Jeffrys'  hand  in 
silence. 

He  dared  not  mention  the  grief  that  filled  the  father's 
heart. 


1 86  A    Startling    Confession. 

At  last  Jeffrys  spoke : 

* 'General,  I  have  come  to  you  for  vengeance.  I  have 
come  to  give  my  life  for  the  cause." 

"You,  friend  Austin  ?"  cried  Rawdon. 

"I !  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  A  hand  that  serves 
our  foes  took  from  me  the  last  support  of  my  life.  My 
son  W2LS  flung  dead  at  my  feet.  I  may  meet  the  mur^ 
derer.    That  is  my  hope.    You  are  going  to  fight  ?" 

"To-morrow,  if  Greene  will  stand  for  a  battle." 

"He  will  stand.  I  have  watched  that  man  all  through 
the  struggle.     He  runs,  but  he  fights." 

*That  is  true." 

"I  want  to  serve  in  the  ranks  to-morrow.  I  can  sit 
a  horse  despite  my  age.  Years  have  not  broken  my 
spirit  nor  cooled  my  blood.    I  come  of  a  fighting  line." 

"I  know  it.  Your  sires  fought  for  Charles  at  Mars- 
ton  Moor.    You  shall  have  your  desire." 

The  old  man  smiled. 

"It  is  the  dying  wish  of  Austin  Jeffrys  to  fall  fight- 
ing for  his  king,"  he  said.  "He  can  wield  a  sword 
as  did  his  ancestors ;  he  can  strike  and  spare  not,  as  did 
the  cavaliers  of  old." 

Rawdon  poured  out  some  wine  and  the  master  of 
Jeffrys  Hall  drank  eagerly. 

"What  is  the  news  from  the  outside?"  asked  the 
g-eneral. 

"I  have  but  little  for  you.    The  Whigs  have  flocked 


A    Startling    Confession.  187 

to  Greene's  banners,  but  not  with  the  alacrity  of  other 
campaigns.    He  has  not  the  force  he  had  at  Guildford." 

"Nor  the  ground,"  was  the  reply.  *'We  shall  beat 
this  rebel  to-morrow." 

"I  hope  so." 

**His  sun  will  set  then.  He  will  never  again  head 
even  a  rabble. 

Rawdon  was  boastful,  but  he  meant  every  word  he 
spoke. 

Austin  JefTrys  sat  down  and  buried  his  aged  face 
in  his  arms  and  Rawdon,  stepping  back,  respected  his 
grief. 

Presently  the  tramping  of  soldiers  was  heard  and  the 
old  man  looked  up. 

"Stuart's  patrol,"   said  Rawdon. 

Jeffrys  shook  his  head. 

"It  is  terrible,  this  grief,  but  it  is  war,"  he  spoke, 
in  low  tones.  "With  whom  can  I  fight  to-morrow, 
general ?" 

"With  Tarleton,  if  you  like." 

"It  shall  be  with  Tarleton,  then.  My  boy  fought 
under  him.    Let  the  father  follow  his  example." 

"Then  you  shall  serve  with  Tarleton.  He  will  be  in 
the  thick  of  the  battle,  for  I  intend  to  show  these  rebels 
that  Tarleton's  swords  have  lost  none  of  their  keen- 


ness." 


Pressed  to  share  a  pallet  in  the  room,  Austin  Jef- 


1 88  A    Startling    Confession. 

frys  retired,  while  Lord  Rawdon  resumed  his  occu- 
pation. 

There  was  something  pathetic  in  this  old  man  coming 
to  the  field  of  battle. 

For  a  few  moments  the  British  general  watched  the 
grief-seamed  face  as  it  was  revealed  in  the  light  that 

prevailed. 

He  pitied  the  old  man  and  cursed  the  fortunes  of 
war  which  had  brought  him  to  his  present  station. 

Childless,  old  and  sorrowful,  he  had  at  last  offered 
what  little  remained  of  life  to  vengeance  and  the  king. 

Suddenly  Rawdon  was  startled  by  a  strange  cry  and 
he  saw  Austin  Jeffrys  sitting  upright  on  the  pallet. 

"I  cannot  sleep  without  confession,"  he  said. 

Rawdon  looked  amazed. 

"What  have  you  to  confess?"  he  queried. 

"Much.    Will  you  listen,  general?" 

"If   you    insist,    yes." 

"I  insist." 

Jefifryp  came  over  to  the  table  and  took  a  camp  stool. 

Leaning  on  the  board  in  front  of  him  for  a  moment 
he  studied  his  lordship's  face  and  then  began : 

"It  was  in  England,  long  ago.  When  I  was  a 
younger  man  I  became  infatuated  w^ith  one  of  the 
fairest  women  in  Haworth.  She  was  all  the  world  to 
me.  I  would  have  given  my  life  for  her  smile ;  I  was 
love  blind. 


A    Startling    Confession.  189 

"It  happened  that  in  the  same  neighborhood  Hved  a 
young  man  who  was  my  rival.  Let  me  mention  no 
names  yet,  your  grace.  We  became  strenuous  rivals 
for  the  hand  of  the  beauty  of  Haworth. 

**I  pressed  my  suit,  but  I  saw  the  prize  slipping  from 
my  grasp,  and  at  last  I  lost  it  altogether. 

"She  gave  her  hand  to  the  hated  one.  I  retired  from 
the  field,  but  with  vengeance  in  my  heart.  In  time 
a  child  came  to  bless  the  wedded  lives  of  the  pair,  a 
little  girl,  who  in  time  would  inherit  a  fortune. 

"From  that  time  I  plotted  more  and  more.  When- 
ever I  caught  sight  of  my  enemy,  for  I  regarded  him  as 
such,  my  blood  boiled  in  my  veins.  I  wanted  his 
blood. 

"Fairer  and  fairer  grew  the  child.  She  crossed  my 
path  with  her  mother's  looks  in  her  eyes,  and  that  mad- 
dened me  more  and  more.  I  hated  her  because  of  that 
sweet  face.  One  night  I  met  her  father  on  the  moor. 
He  was  riding  home  to  wife  and  child.  With  the 
demon  of  crime  in  my  heart  I  watched  him  as  he  came 
on,  humming  a  love  song  which  she  would  never  sing 
for  me. 

"I  stopped  him  under  a  great  oak.  We  had  hot 
words,  and  when  I  walked  away  the  moon  looked  down 
upon  a  white  face  that  would  never  again  respond  to 
her  smiles. 

"It  was  a  swift  ride  home.  My  heart,  however,  was 
light.     I  had  settled  with  my  rival.     Soon  afterward 


rpo  A    Startling    Confession. 

I  married  and  came  to  America.  Here  my  son  was 
born.  He  was  younger  than  the  people  suspected, 
■who  knew  not  his  real  age.  He  looked  older  than  he 
was,  did  Dan.  He  was  really  younger  than  the  child 
of  my  rival. 

*'Soon  after  reaching  this  country  the  belle  of  Ha- 
worth  died.  I  heard  the  tidings  with  a  smile.  Then 
came  another  surprise.  Her  child  came  to  this  land, 
accompanied  by  her  uncle.  The  pair  lived  together. 
The  uncle  never  married.  They  settled  near  me.  I 
knew  all  about  the  fortune  which  would  fall  to  the 
young  miss  when  she  reached  a  certain  age.  If  the 
documents  which  proved  these  facts  were  not  stolen 
she  would  become  rich  in  a  few  years.  I  plotted  to 
steal  those  papers.  They  were  in  her  uncle's  pos- 
session. 

"I  sent  my  son  to  do  the  work.  He  failed.  At  the 
head  of  a  band  of  men  he  raided  the  house,  but  the 
papers  were  not  found.  He  reported  to  me  and  I 
cursed  him.  General,  the  name  of  the  man  whom  I 
slew  in  England  was  Jackson,  his  child  is  Dora  Jack- 
son, and  her  uncle  the  old  blacksmith  who  threw  my 
son  dead  at  my  feet." 

For  some  time  Rawdon,  who  had  been  appalled  by 
this  confession,   did  not  speak. 

He  drew  back  and  looked  into  the  white  face  at  the 
table,  looking  ghastlier  in  the  light. 

"To-morrow  is  my  last  day  on  earth,  hence  this  con- 


A    Startling    Confession.  191 

fession,"  continued  Austin  Jeffrys.  "I  am  a  murderer. 
I  fled  from  my  crime  and  added  evil  to  it  in  this 
country.  I  am  ready  to  meet  the  Avenger  of  all,  but 
I  want  to  cross  swords  with  this  madman  who  swings 
the  hammer  as  he  rides.  Think  you  he  will  be  in  the 
battle  to-morrow?" 

"He  is  likely  to  be  there." 

"I  trust  he  will.  I  trust  Abner  Jackson  will  be 
there,  and  that  I  may  meet  him.  You  should  shun 
me,  general." 

"I  pity  you." 

"I  have  no  pity  for  myself.  I  have  reaped  the 
whirlwind  after  sowing  the  wind — that's  all.  You 
will  give  me  a  uniform?" 

"I  will  see  to  that." 

In  a  few  moments  Austin  Jeffrys  went  back  to  his 
pallet  and  fell  asleep. 

Lord  Rawdon  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  and 
left  the  house. 

One  hour  later  he  returned,  carrying  over  his  arm 
the  brilliant  uniform  of  one  of  Tarleton's  dragoons, 
sword  and  all. 

He  was  about  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  old  house 
when  the  sentry  spoke: 

"Your  visitor  is  gone,  your  grace." 

"When  did  he  leave?" 

"Half  an  hour  ago." 

A  smiled  gathered  at  Rawdon's  lips. 


192  A    Startling    Confession. 

He  entered  the  house  and  threw  a  swift  glance 
around. 

On  the  camp  table  lay  a  folded  note.  He  picked  it 
up  and  read  it  at  a  glance  : 

*'I  will  see  you  to-morrow  on  the  field  of  glory.  Till 
then  farewell.  Jeffrys." 

Rawdon  tore  the  note  into  twenty  pieces  and  flung 
them  away. 

"Vengeance  will  be  swift  to-morrow,  if  there  is  jus- 
tice in  vengeance/'  he  said  to  himself.  "Who  would 
have  thought  that  the  heart  of  Austin  Jeffrys  carried 
such  a  secret?" 

Five  minutes  later  the  guard  heard  his  commander 
pacing  the  floor  of  the  old  house  like  an  impatient 
tiger. 

He  had  laid  his  plans  to  overwhelm  Greene  on  the 
morrow. 

He  would  sweep  the  Americans  from  the  field  and 
lighten  the  heart  of  the  half-imbecile  monarch  across 
the  water. 

One  sure  blow,  he  thought,  and  Greene  would  never 
again  raise  the  banner  of  revolt. 

But  Lord  Rawdon,  with  all  his  clearsightedness,  did 
not  know. 

He  was  true  to  his  king,  but  there  were  men  who 
were  just  as  true  to  freedom. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  FIGHT  AT  HOBKIRk's  HILL, 

It  is  an  old  saying  that  "Man  proposes,  but  God 
disposes."  This  is  startlingly  true  in  war,  and  when 
Lord  Rawdon  thought  to  crush  Greene  and  deprive 
him  forever  afterward  of  being  a  help  to  the  cause 
of  liberty,  he  failed. 

The  American  army  consisted  of  nine  hundred  foot 
and  fifty  dragoons. 

The  forces  of  the  British  nearly  doubled  this  and 
they  were  in  better  condition  to  fight  and  win  a  battle. 

Gen.  Greene  had  drawn  up  his  little  band  on  Hob- 
kirk's  Hill,  a  rise  about  two  miles  from  Camden. 

There,  knowing  that  he  would  be  attacked  on  the 
following  day,  he  disposed  his  men,  ordering  all  to 
stand  firm  and  meet  the  enemv  with  the  valor  of 
Americans. 

The  troops  had  been  twenty-four  hours  without 
food,  but  this  was  not  uncommon  among  Greene's  sol- 
diers. They  were  used  to  fighting  on  empty  stomachs. 
But  rations  were  issued  on  the  fateful  morning,  which 
was  the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  and  the  hungry  men  sat 
down  to  breakfast. 

Rodney  and  Jack,  who  had  rejoined  their  command 
under  Col.  Washington,  were  engaged  in  discussing 


194         The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill. 

the  very  scant  meal  when  the  fire  from  the  videttes 
outside  the  camp  told  that  the  enemy  was  at  hand. 

They  sprang  up  at  once  and  ran  to  their  horses. 

"They  are  here !"  cried  Jack.  "This  day  we  shall 
meet  our  old  friends,  the  enemy,  again." 

*T  hope  so,  and  Capt.  Samson  among  the  number." 

Gen.  Greene  was  in  the  act  of  pressing  a  cup  of  cof- 
fee to  his  lips  when  the  sharp  firing  fell  upon  his  ears. 

Dashing  it  down  he  sprang  to  saddle,  his  mild  blue 
eye  lighting  up  with  the  fire  of  battle  and  his  whole 
soul  at  once  in  the  fray. 

Everywhere  the  drums  beat  to  arms,  soldiers  came 
running  in  from  the  posts  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
whole  army  presented  a  determined  front  to  the  ad- 
vancing redcoats. 

A  road  ran  directly  through  the  patriot  camp,  and 
along  it  the  army  was  stretched  in  a  single  line.  One 
wdng  rested  on  a  swamp,  while  the  other  seemed  to 
lose  itself  in  a  wood. 

The  artillery  had  been  planted  so  as  to  sweep  the 
road,  while  Washington's  dragoons  were  stationed 
behind  it,  and  in  reserve.  It  was  nearly  the  same  order 
of  battle  which  had  obtained  at  Guildford. 

The  suspense  of  silence  which  followed  the  firing  on 
the  outposts  was  painful. 

Not  a  sign  of  the  enemy  could  be  seen. 
'Where  are  they?"  queried  Jack. 
'You  will  see  enough  of  them  by  and  by." 


*f^ 


The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's    Hill.  195 

Presently  a  line  of  scarlet  broke  into  view  in  the 
open  ground  that  stretched  from  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  sight  was  magnificent,  for,  by  Rawdon's  orders, 
the  soldiers  had  cleaned  their  clothes  and  brightened 
their  muskets,  and  in  the  sunlight  they  shone  like  an 
army   on   parade. 

Greene  was,  above  all,  a  man  of  action.  He  had  the 
faculty  of  solving  battle  problems  in  a  flash,  as  it 
were,  and  the  moment  he  caught  sight  of  the  British 
he  issued  his  orders  in  one  breath : 

"Let  Campbell  and  Ford  turn  their  flanks,  the 
cavalry  take  them  in  the  rear  and  the  center  charge 
with  trailed  bayonets." 

In  an  instant  the  entire  army  flung  itself  forward. 

"Forward !"  cried  Col.  Washington. 

The  dragoons  rode  toward  the  enemy's  rear  and 
gained  it. 

"Charge !" 

With  cries,  which  the  British  had  heard  before,  the 
thundering  dragoons  fell  upon  them. 

True,  there  were  but  fifty,  but  fifty  madmen  saber- 
ing and  firing  from  the  saddle  as  the  horses  bent  to 
their  allotted  task,  is  enough  to  strike  terror  to  the 
hearts  of  the  coolest. 

In  a  moment  the  fight  in  the  rear  was  bloody  and 
terrible. 

In  vain  did  the  British  rear  guard  try  to  stem  the 
tide.    The  American  artillery  had  opened  on  their  ranks 


196         The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill. 

from  another  direction ;  the  center,  composed  of  tried 
troops,  was  sweeping  forward  with  trailing  bayonets 
and  the  day  was  ahnost  won. 

The  boy  dragoons  kept  close  together,  as  they  had 
at  Guildford. 

Suddenly  they  heard  bugles  ring  out  above  the  bat- 
tle's roar,  and  Jack  looked  at  his  friend. 

Tarleton  had  come  to  the  rescue. 

With  wild  shouts  the  red-coated  riders  of  the  king's 
army  swept  forward. 

The  meeting  between  the  two  legions  was  the  real 
shock  of  the  battle. 

''Look !  look !"  shouted  Rodney,  at  Jack's  ear.  "Look 
over  yonder.    The  man  with  the  hammer !" 

Sure  enough,  fighting  against  terrible  odds,  they 
saw  Jackson,  the  blacksmith,  striking  right  and  left 
with  his  ponderous  weapon,  which  was  doing  murder- 
ous execution. 

The  bloody  hammer,  swinging  in  mad  circles  round 
its  owner's  head,  was  beating  through  helmets  and 
bone. 

Standing  in  the  saddle  he  looked  like  some  old  cru- 
sader among  the  Moslem  hordes,  or  like  a  modern 
Cid  in  war. 

The  sight  fascinated  the  two  young  Whigs  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  they  forgot  their  own  peril. 

The  British  fell  back.  Before  that  impetuous  rush 
no  men  could  stand  long. 


The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill.         197 


The  boys  saw  the  enemy  close  around  Jackson,  as 
if  determined  to  crush  him  if  it  cost  a  hundred  lives. 

"He's  down !"  shouted  Jack. 

**No,  he's  up  again.  Look!  The  black  horse  likes 
the  fight  as  well  as  his  master." 

"Let  us  lend  him  aid." 

The  idea  was  immediately  acted  upon. 

The  boy  dragoons  flew  to  the  madnian's  rescue. 

They  had  nearly  reached  the  spot  when  they  heard 
loud  shouts  of  victory  on  the  left. 

They  came  from  English  throats. 

Gunby's  line  had  broken !  The  brave  men  who  had 
stood  so  well  at  Guildford  were  fleeing  before  Raw- 
don's  redcoats. 

The  fight  was  almost  lost. 

Never  before  had  the  Maryland  line  turned  its  back 
to  the  enemy  in  such  manner. 

Was  Gunby  mad? 

"They've  broken,  curse  them !"  cried  Rodney.  "Why 
can't  they  stand  up  to  their  work?" 

But  they  had  work  of  their  own  ahead. 

They  saw  the  lines  of  scarlet  close  closer  around  the 
mad  blacksmith. 

But  the  hammer  still  rose  and  fell. 

Suddenly  there  came  upon  the  scene  a  dragoon  with 
long  white  hair. 

In  his  rush  toward  Jackson  he  pushed  every  other 
man  aside  and  rode  madly  at  his  enemy. 


198  The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill. 

The  boys  instinctively  drew  rein. 

To  rush  on  to  Jackson's  succor  now  would  be  the 
sheerest  folly. 

They  saw — and  it  all  passed  before  their  eyes  like  a 
flashing  dream — the  collision  of  the  white-haired  dra- 
goon and  the  man  on  the  black  horse. 

A  wild  cry  leaped  from  the  old  dragoon's  lips. 

**At  last !  Vengeance  is  mine  and  not  God's !  You 
know  me,  murderer.     I  am  Austin  Jeflfrys !" 

The  master  of  Jeffrys  Hall  was  answered  with  an 
eager  cry. 

Jackson  swung  the  hammer  once  more  and  Jeffrys 
struck  with  his  saber. 

At  the  same  time  both  men  came  together. 

Austin  Jeffrys  darted  nimbly  under  the  hammer  and 
dealt  a  quick,  upward  blow. 

Just  then  the  hammer  fell,  and  the  horses  collided. 

"Heavens !"  cried  Jack.  'This  is  war.  Come  back, 
Rodney.    The  whole  line  has  broken." 

This  seemed  terribly  true. 

The  sudden  flight  of  his  favorite  regiment  had  al- 
most broken  the  heroic  Greene's  heart. 

He  had  ventured  so  much  on  them,  had  staked  his 
hope  on  the  Continental  line,  and  now  it  was  flying 
from  the  bayonets  of  Lord  Rawdon. 

He  plunged  into  the  very  ranks  of  the  regiment;  he 
gave  orders  thick  and  fast ;  he  pleaded,  he  raged,  threat- 
ened and  shamed  them  to  another  stand. 


The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's  Hill.  199 

But  it  was  too  late. 

He  dashed  to  the  siimmit  of  the  hill  and  looked  over 

the  field. 

The  enemy  had  pierced  his  center,  his  artillery  had 
been  forced  back  and  everywhere  the  columns  in  red 
were  pushing  on. 

"Save  the  guns !"  he  commanded,  and  springing 
from  his  horse,  in  spite  of  the  hailstorm  of  lead  that 
filled  the  air,  he  seized  the  drag  ropes  with  his  own 
hands  and  helped  to  pull  the  cannon  to  a  place  of  safety. 

But  it  was  not  a  place  of  safety  for  long. 

The  enemy  came  on  and  dashed  straight  for  the 
guns. 

The  heroic  Smith,  with  forty-five  guards,  tried  to 
save  them,  and  all  were  shot  down  but  fourteen. 

In  another  moment  Tarleton's  cavalry  fell  upon  them 
and  every  man  died  at  his  post  of  duty. 

The  guns  were  now  lost,  but  before  the  victorious 
foe  could  drag  them  ofif  Col.  Washington  came  down 
upon  him. 

It  was  the  second  charge  of  the  day  for  this  heroic 
band  of  riders. 

They  fell  upon  the  British  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"Here  you  are !"  cried  a  voice  almost  at  Rodney's  el- 
bow, and  the  boy  dragoon  looked  into  the  malicious 
face  and  savage  eyes  of  his  old  enemy,  Capt.  Samson. 

Before  he  could  deliver  a  stroke  the  blade  of  the 


aoo         The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill. 


Tory  leader  struck  him  flat  across  the  face;  he  seemed 
to  be  thrown  into  a  pit  of  darkness. 

"Surrender !"  cried  a  loud  voice,  which  made  the 
Tory  turn. 

A  heavy  roan  horse  was  almost  upon  him  and  a 
sweeping  saber  crossed  his  face. 

"Surrender  to  a  young  rebel  whelp?  You  don't 
know  Capt.  Samson !" 

"Then  take  that,  sir." 

The  saber  came  down  upon  the  Tory's  head,  though 
he  tried  to  break  the  force  of  the  blow,  and  he  reeled, 
clutching  at  air  as  Jack  struck  again. 

Down  went  Samson  under  the  hoofs  of  maddened 
steeds  and  Jack  was  forced  back. 

"Don't  lose  your  life,  boy,"  and  he  was  caught  by 
the  arm  and  dragged  from  the  scene  by  a  huge  dragoon 
of  the  legion. 

"But  Rodney  is  yonder — on  the  field." 

"We  must  save  the  guns." 

Jack  was  forced  to  ride  away.  The  guns  were  of 
more  importance  than  the  life  of  a  boy  dragoon. 

And  they  saved  the  guns.  The  heroic  Washington 
threw  about  the  imperiled  cannon  a  line  of  steel  which 
the  British  could  not  break. 

They  rushed  against  it  time  after  time,  but  the  Amer- 
icans disputed  every  inch  of  ground,  and  suddenly,  in 
turn,  fell  upon  the  advancing  foe  and  sabered  their 
way  almost  to  Rawdon's  person. 


The    Fight  at  Hobklrk^s  Hill.         aoi 

That  last  act  checked  the  enemy. 
Jack  rode  slowly  from  the  field,  ever  and  anon  look- 
ing back  as  if  he  would  go  to  the  help  of  Rodney. 

It  was  the  first  time  the  fortunes  of  war  had  sepa- 
rated them. 

He  cared  nothing  for  the  long  saber  cut  across  his 
shoulder,  a  memento  of  Capt.  Samson's  prowess;  he 
thought  only  of  Rodney  in  the  hands  of  the  foe — per- 
haps dead  upon  the  hill. 

Greene  retired  from  the  field  with  the  sullenness  that 
ever  characterized  him. 

Lord  Rawdon  had  not  broken  the  spirit  of  the  bold 
leader. 

He  had  merely  wounded  the  lion  and  was  afraid  to 
follow  far. 

The  ammunition  of  the  little  army  of  freedom  was 
almost  exhausted. 

It  had  suflfered  terrible  in  the  battle,  and  but  for  the 
breaking  of  the  Maryland  line  victory  might  have 
perched  upon  his  banners. 

It  was  now  likely  that  Cornwallis  would  unite  with 
Raw^don  and  both  armies  fall  upon  Greene.  But  even 
this  dark  prospect  did  not  daunt  him.  He  only  said: 
"We  will  dispute  every  inch  of  ground,  though  I  know 
Lord  Rawdon  will  push  me  back  to  the  mountains.'* 

The  field  of  Hobkirk's  Hill  presented  a  terrible  as- 
pect after  the  battle. 


202  The    Fight  at  Hobkirk's   Hill. 

Redcoats  lay  everywhere,  and  mingled  with  them 
were  the  bodies  of  their  foes. 

Locked  in  the  embrace  of  death  on  the  crimsoned 
ground  the  hunters  found  two  men. 

The  white  hair  of  one  fell  over  the  face  of  the  other. 

In  the  hand  of  one  was  the  hilt  of  a  sword  and  the 
fingers  of  his  foe  still  gripped  the  handle  of  a  hammer. 

Both  were  dead.  Tlie  enemies  of  form.er  years  had 
fought  it  out  on  the  battlefield  and  both  had  avenged 
the  past. 

But  Rodney.    What  of  him  ?    Let  us  see. 


1 


CHAPTER  XXL 

VENGEANCE     AND     VICTORY. 

For  three  days  after  the  battle  of  Hobkirk's  Hill, 
Jack  Glenn  tried  to  get  tidings  of  Rodney. 

The  boy  blacksmith  had  vanished  as  if  the  ground 
had  opened  and  swallowed  him.  Jack  saw  him  last 
as  he  went  down  before  the  blow  delivered  by  Capt. 
Samson,  and,  though  he  crept  back  to  the  bloody  field 
the  night  after  the  battle,  searching  among  the  still 
unburied  dead,  he  had  failed  to  find  a  single  trace  of 
his  friend. 

The  army  retired  slowly,  for  Greene  was  hoping 
that  Rawdon  would  follow  up  his  advantage,  but  that 
wily  officer  knew  when  he  had  enough. 

A  week  of  uncertainty  passed. 

The  Americans  went  back  to  their  old  camps  to  pre- 
pare for  another  test  of  strength,  and  Tories  and  Whigs 
rode  the  adjacent  country,  up  to  their  old  tricks. 

Rodney  surely  was  either  dead  or  a  prisoner  of  war. 

If  a  prisoner,  he  was  apt  to  be  sent  to  Qiarleston, 
then  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  destined  before 
the  year  closed  to  welcome  Greene  at  the  head  of  the 
gallant  army. 

So  beautiful  now  was  wood  and  field,  clothed  in 
green  and  crimson,  that  one  would  hardly  believe  that 


ao4  Vengeance    and   Victory. 

war  was  in  the  land.  Flowers  bloomed  evervAvhere, 
the  breezes  were  soft  and  plentiful,  and  over  all  lifted 
the  clear  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

Jack  was  on  the  eve  of  carrying  out  a  plan  through 
which  he  intended  to  enter  the  British  camp  at  Cam- 
den in  search  of  Rodnev  when  he  received  a  note, 
which  turned  him  to  other  fields. 

It  came  from  Callaway  Manor,  and  was  from  both 
Alice  and  Dora  asking  him  to  visit  them. 

As  Rodney  was  not  included  in  the  invitation,  he 
supposed  that  they  had  heard  of  Hobkirk's  Hill,  and 
he  prepared  at  once  to  visit  the  place. 

Night  was  falling  over  the  landscape  when  the  boy 
dragoon  rode  up  the  tree  fringed  way  to  the  old  man- 
sion. The  silence  that  surrounded  him  was  ominous, 
for  he  had  noticed  that  such  a  silence  in  time  of  war 
boded  a  person  no  good. 

He  reached  the  porch  and  was  dismounting,  when 
a  figure  seemed  to  rise  from  the  ground  and  his  arm 
was  eagerly  clutched. 

"Am  it  you,  massa?''  inquired  a  negro's  voice. 

"It  is  me,  Cupe.    What  is  it  ?" 

"Dar  am  Tories  in  de  neighborhood.  Dey  been 
watchin'  de  house  long  befo'  dark." 

"Tories?"  echoed  Jack. 

"Cap'n  Samson  and  his  men." 

"What!  is  that  rascal  living  yet?  I  had  hoped  I 
finished  him  at  Hobkirk's  Hill." 


Vengeance    and   Victory.  205 

"He  am  de  livingest  man  in  all  dese  parts.  An'  de 
wust." 

"Right  you  are  as  to  the  latter  observation,  Cupe. 
Where  are  the  young  ladies  ?" 

"In  de  house.    I'm  de — de  what  you  call  it  in  wah  ?'' 

"The  picket." 

"That's  it.  Take  yer  hoss  round  de  house,  an'  dey'll 
let  you  in  de  back  way." 

Jack  obeyed,  and  in  a  short  time  stood  in  a  semi- 
darkened  room  in  the  presence  of  the  two  girls. 

They  welcomed  and  questioned  him  in  low  voices. 

They  had  sent  for  him  to  learn,  if  they  could,  par- 
ticulars as  to  Rodney's  present  whereabouts. 

Jack  was  telling  all  he  knew,  and  was  in  the  midst 
of  his  account  when  Cupe  darted  across  the  room. 

"Dey  am  here !"  he  cried,  in  affrighted  accents. 
"Cap'n  Samson  is  jes'  outside." 

Remembering  the  former  attack  on  the  manor,  Jack 
sprang  to  the  door  and  noticed  that  it  had  already  been 
effectually  barricaded. 

This  time  there  was  no  demand  for  surrender. 

Before  the  inmates  of  the  manor  house  could  think 
the  door  was  struck  a  succession  of  blows  which  no 
portal  could  withstand,  and  it  quivered  and  fell  inward. 

In  another  moment  the  Tory  band  swarmed  into  the 
house. 

"Caught  you  all  napping  this  time !"  laughed  Capt. 
Samson  as  he  came  forward,  backed  by  his  followers. 


(</ 


itt 


ao6  Vengeance   and   Victory. 

Jack  laid  his  hand  on  his  pistol,  but  did  not  draw, 
for  half  a  dozen  weapons  were  thrust  into  his  face. 

As  for  the  girls,  they  fell  back  and  gave  the 
triumphant  foes  look  for  look. 

"I  guess  you  won't  forget  this  call/'  resumed  the 
Tory  leader.  **If  I'm  not  mistaken,  you  haven't  for- 
gotten the  last  one.  We  have  the  rebellion  in  North 
America  about  suppressed  and  hangman's  day  is  about 
to  dawn." 

'On  which  side  ?"  cried  Mistress  Alice. 

'On  ours,  of  course.  You  don't  suppose,  miss,  that 
the  king  will  let  the  Whigs  pull  the  rope?" 

Alice,  with  a  look  of  supreme  contempt,  turned  away. 

"Search  the  old  nest!"  commanded  Capt.  Samson  to 
his  men.  "I'll  take  care  of  the  prisoners.  If  you  find 
anything  valuable  take  it.  We  are  told  to  confiscate 
anything  we  find  that  belongs  to  rebels.  I  don't  want 
you  to  be  mealy-mouthed  about  this  business,  boys. 
After  we've  searched  the  nest  we'll  lighten  the  heavens 
with  a  Httle  fire." 

"Brute!"  exclaimed  Alice,  at  thought  of  her  home 
being  destroyed  by  the  Tories. 

"That's  a  compliment,  I  suppose,"  grinned  Capt. 
Samson. 

The  partisans  dispersed  in  their  search,  and  presently 
they  were  ransacking  Callaway  Manor  to  their  heart's 
content. 


Vengeance    and  Victory.  207 

One  of  the  boldest  cut  the  portrait  of  Alice's  mother 
from  its  frame  and  twisted  it  round  his  arm. 

The  eyes  of  the  girl  flashed  at  this. 

In  another  moment  no  one  was  left  in  the  chamber 
but  the  prisoners  and  Capt.  Samson. 

He  leaned  against  a  table,  his  large  arms  folded  upon 
his  broad  chest,  watching  the  three  as  the  hawk 
watches  the  dove  it  has  ensnared. 

"Capt.  Samson,  what  became  of  my  friend,  Rodney 
Black?"  questioned  Jack. 

"You  lost  him  at  Camden,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  the  flowers  are  blooming  over  him  already/' 
was  the  reply. 

"I  don't  believe  it !"  cried  the  boy,  for  something  in 
Capt.  Samson's  manner  belied  his  words. 

"Why  ask  me,  then  ?" 

Jack  turned  away  in  time  to  see  Alice  reach  the  ma- 
hogany mantel  and  jerk  something  from  it. 

In  another  second  Capt.  Samson  was  looking  down 
the  muzzle  of  a  pistol. 

The  action  occupied  so  short  a  time  that  the  Tory 
chieftain  could  not  realize  his  peril. 

"What  did  I  tell  you  the  night  you  dragged  me  from 
my  father's  arms  just  before  you  hanged  him?"  cried 
the  fair  avenger.  "Did  I  not  say  that  vengeance  should 
be  mine  one  of  these  days  ?" 


ao8  Vengeance    and   Victory. 

Samson  fell  back  and  glared  at  the  speaker. 

''Why  not  to-night?"  continued  Alice.  *'Why  not  rid 
the  earth  of  its  greatest  curse — the  South  of  its  king 
monster?  You  cannot  blot  out  liberty  in  the  colonies 
any  more  than  you  can  stem  the  ocean  tides  with  a 
feather.  It  will  thrive  long  after  you  are  dust,  Capt. 
Samson.  That  night  of  horror  witnessed  your  triumpn ; 
to-night  shall  witness  the  vengeance  of  Thomas  Calla- 
way's child !" 

Jack  held  his  breath. 

He  feared  for  the  fair  girl  after  her  shot,  but  he 
knew  that  she  intended  to  settle  forever  with  the  Tory 
of  the  Carolinas. 

**You  need  make  no  preparation  for  death,"  she  went 
on,  looking  over  the  barrel  of  the  weapon  straight  into 
Capt.  Samison's  face.  "For  you  there  is  no  forgive- 
ness. I  am  a  daughter  of  desperation,  and  my  hand 
to-night  avenges  more  than  one  dark  crime." 

She  seem.ed  to  take  a  step  nearer  the  speechless  man ; 
he  caught  what  he  thought  was  a  movement,  and  threw 
out  his  hand  to  beat  down  the  pistol,  but  that  instant  it 
flashed  in  his  bearded  face. 

There  was  a  cry,  a  wild  throwing  up  of  a  pair  of 
long  arms,  and  the  body  of  Capt.  Samson  fell  against 
the  wall. 

Never  villain  met  a  more  deserved  fate. 

"Quick !"  cried  Jack  to  the  girls.  "Fly  before  the 
avengers  come  back !" 


Vengeance    and   Victory.  209 

The  three  plunged  from  the  house  and  across  the 
porch. 

Into  the  dusk  they  fled,  and  heard  the  Tories  clatter- 
ing- back  into  the  room  where  their  leader  lay. 

"Halt !"  shouted  one  of  the  guards  outside,  but — Jack 
flashed  his  pistol  in  the  fellow's  face,  and  they  ran  on. 

Already  the  royalists  were  pouring  out  of  the  house. 

The  air  was  filled  with  cries  of  vengeance  as  they 
hunted  everywhere  for  their  prey. 

"Charge!  Down  with  the  Tories  of  South  Caro- 
Hna!"  rang  out  a  voice  above  the  imprecations  of  the 
baffled  band. 

The  Tories  stopped  and  heard  the  clatter  of  horse's 
hoofs  in  the  road. 

Past  the  spot  where  Jack  and  the  girls  had  halted 
dashed  a  detachment  of  Americans,  and  in  another  mo- 
ment they  were  sabering  right  among  the  king's  men. 

*Tt  must  be  Black  Gorman,"  said  Jack,  to  his  com- 
panions.   "They  ride  like  Gorman's  men." 

Before  this  furious  charge  the  Tories,  having  lost 
their  leader,  could  not  stand  long. 

They  fell  back  in  dismay  and  were  chased  down  the 
road  and  through  the  timber. 

"Where  are  the  inmates  of  the  manor?"  inquired  a 
loud  voice  on  the  porch. 

'Tis  Rodney !"  exclaimed  Jack,  as  he  bounded  for- 


(( }' 


2 TO  Vengeance    and   Victory. 

ward  and  appeared  at  the  speaker's  side.     "So  you've 
come  back  from  the  dead,  boy  ?" 

Rodney  turned  and  threw  his  arms  about  his  com- 
panion. 

"As  good  as  back  from  the  dead,"  he  said.  "I  gave 
the  enemy  the  slip  at  Camden,  whither  I  was  carried 
after  the  battle,  and  here  I  am  at  last,  and  just  in  the 
nick  of  time." 

''But  you  were  wounded  at  Hobkirk's  Hill?" 

"Not  badly.  I  thought  when  I  fell  under  the  horses 
that  I  had  seen  my  last  fight,  but  I  was  strangely  saved. 
A  giant  trooper  fell  upon  me,  crushing  me  into  the 
ground,  as  it  seemed,  and  that  preserved  my  life.  Ah, 
here  are  our  friends,"  and  Rodney  held  out  his  hands 
to  the  two  girls. 

He  then  related  how  he  had  fallen  in  with  Black 
Gorman's  men,  who  were  on  the  lookout  for  Capt. 
Samson,  and  how  he  had  followed  them  to  the  spot 
•where  they  encountered  the  Tory  chief. 

*T'm  sorry  he  got  away,"  Rodney  said. 

""He  did  not  escape.    He  is  yonder." 
"In  the  house.  Jack?" 
"Yes." 

"Then  we  have  an  important  prisoner." 
"But  one  who  will  never  stretch  hemp." 
They  entered  the  house  and  Jack  held  the  light  near 
the  dark  face  on  the  floor. 


Vengeance    and  Victory.  211 

The  girls  looked  on  without  a  word,  while  Jack  told 
to  Rodney  the  story  of  the  Tory's  doom. 

SfC  3|C  3|C  3|C  3|5  3^  ^p 

The  next  day  and  the  next  the  two  boy  dragoons 
spent  at  Callaway  Manor. 

While  there  the  waves  of  war  did  not  trouble  them. 

When  the  time  came  for  their  departure  the  two  girls 
accompanied  them  to  Greene's  camp,  and  were  intro- 
duced to  the  American  warrior. 

"As  brave  as  the  bravest!"  said  the  gentle  Greene 
as  he  held  their  hands.  "With  men  Hke  you  to  strike 
for  liberty,  King  George  will  never  again  enslave  his 
North  American  colonies.  Cornwallis  has  turned  to- 
ward the  Virginias,  where  Washington  and  the  French 
await  him,  and  where  the  last  act  of  this  war,  please 
God,  who  has  been  with  us  through  light  and  shadow, 
will  take  place." 

"Will  you  not  visit  Callaway  Manor,  some  time,  gen- 
eral ?'*  asked  Mistress  Alice. 

*T  shall  be  glad  to  see  your  home  and  enjoy  its  hos- 
pitalities," smiled  Greene.  "But  we  will  wait  till  we 
can  enjoy  them  to  the  full.  Then  I  will  come  and  I 
know  you  will  have  a  smile  for  Nathaniel  Greene,  for 
I  myself  have  smiled  but  little  these  seven  years 
of  war. 

The  girls  were  escorted  home,  and  Jack  and  Rodney 
again  took  up  the  trade  of  war. 


212  Vengeance  and   Victory. 


They  followed  the  fortunes  of  Greene  to  the  end. 

They  were  with  him  at  the  siege  of  Ninety-Six,  they 
sabered  behind  Washington  at  Eutaw  Springs,  where 
the  British  army  was  crippled  beyond  repair.  They 
kept  close  to  his  side,  until  one  day,  after  the  haughty 
Cornwallis  had  delivered  up  his  blade  at  Yorktown, 
Greene  entered  Charleston  at  the  head  of  his  little  army 
amid  the  shouts  of  a  happy  populace. 

This  was  on  the  13th  of  December,  a  day  long  to  be 
remembered  in  the  battle-shattered  South,  for  then  the 
flag  of  the  new  nation  kissed  the  breeze,  while  the  flag 
of  England  floated  droopingly  from  the  vessels  that 
bore  forever  from  these  shores  the  army  of  George  III. 

After  the  war  Dora  came  into  possession  of  the  for- 
tune due  her  from  the  mother  country,  but  at  Alice's 
request  continued  to  reside  for  some  time  at  Callaway 
Manor,  in  whose  stateliest  chamber  one  day  a  double 
ceremony  was  performed — graced  by  some  of  the 
heroes  of  the  long  struggle. 

The  Swamp  Fox  was  there,  and  so  was  Col.  Wash- 
ington, the  great  cavalry  leader  of  the  Revolution ;  but 
the  most  distinguished  guest  was  a  portly  man,  with 
mild,  blue  eyes,  who  gave  away  the  brides. 

Gen.  Greene  had  made  a  long  journey  to  be  present 
at  the  ceremonv,  and  he  was  received  with  delisfht  bv 
the  hundreds  who  came  from  the  surrounding  region 
to  greet  him. 

Callaway  Manor  was  inhabitated  for  many  years  by 


Vengeance    and   Victory.  213 


Rodney  and  Mistress  Alice,  while  a  splendid  home 
arose  where  the  old  forge  once  stood,  and  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  visiting  between  the  places. 

Nathaniel  Greene  lived  but  a  short  time  after  the 
close  of  the  war. 

He  died  from  the  effects  of  a  sunstroke  on  the  i8th 
of  June,  1786,  and  was  laid  away  with  imposing  honors. 

One  of  the  great  leaders  of  the  Revolution,  he  has 
received  the  adulation  of  his  countrymen  for  more  than 
a  century.  Throughout  the  great  struggle  he  was  the 
firm  friend  of  Washington,  whom  he  loved  next  to  his 
country ;  and  it  is  of  him  that  Washington  truly  said : 

"Could  he  but  promote  the  interests  of  his  country 
in  the  character  of  a  corporal,  he  would  exchange, 
without  a  murmur,  his  epaulettes  for  the  knot." 

So  fought  and  died  this  heroic  man,  and  in  the  years 
that  followed  the  Revolution  many  a  patriot  referred 
W'ith  pride  to  the  times  when  he  fought  beneath  the 
banners  of  the  Quaker's  son — Nathaniel  Greene. 

THE     END. 


THE  CREAM  OF  JUVENILE  HCTION 

m  BOYS'  OWN 
*   LIBRARYo* 

A  Selection  of  the  Best  Books  for  Boys  by  the 

Most  Popular  Authors 

^^HE  titles  in  this  splendid  juvenile  series  have  been  selected 
v^  with  care,  and  as  a  result  all  the  stories  can  be  relied 
npon  for  their  excellence.  They  are  bright  and  sparkling;  not 
over-burdened  with  lengthy  descrptions,  but  brimful  of  adven- 
ture from  the  first  page  to  the  last — in  fact  they  are  just  the 
kind  of  yams  that  appeal  strongly  to  the  healthy  boy  who  is 
fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism.  Among  the 
authors  whose  names  are  included  in  the  Boys'  Own  Library 
are  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.,  Edward  S.  Ellis,  James  Otis,  Capt.  Ralph 
Bonehill,  Burt  L-.  Standish,  Gilbert  Patten  and  Frank  H.  Con- 
Terse. 


SPECIAL  FEATURES  OF  THE 
BOYS'  OWN  LIBRARY   ^    ^ 

All  the  books  in  this  series  are  copyrighted,  printed  on  good 
paper,  large  type,  illustrated,  printed  wrappers,  handsome  cloth 
covers  stamped  in  inks  and  gold — fifteen  special  cover  designs. 

150  Titles — Price,  per  Volmne^  75  cents 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher, 

DAVID  McKAY, 

6X0  SO.  WASHINGTON  SQUARE,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

(i) 


HORAXIO  AI^OBR,  Jr. 

One  of  the  best  known  and  most  popalar  writers.     Grood,  cleai^ 
ileal  thy  stories  for  the  American  Boy, 

Adventures  of  a  Telegraph  Boy  Mark  Stanton 

Bean  Dunham  ^ed  Ifewton 

Erie  Train  Boy,  The  New  Fork  Boy 

uPive  Hundred  Dollar  Check  Tom  Brace 

From  Canal  Boy  to  President  Tom  Tracy 

Prom  Farm  Boy  to  Senator  "Walter  G  ifflth 

Backwoods  Boy,  The  Youns;  Acrobalfi; 


One  of  the  best  stories  ever  written  on  hunting,  trapping  and  ad- 
-renture  in  the  West,  after  the  Custer  Massacre. 

Gilbert,  the  Boy  Trapper 


A  splendid  story,  recording  the  adventures  of  a  boy  with  smuggler*. 

Smuggler's  Cave,  The 

■~—  —       -    -  ,  .  -        -   I 

CAPX.  RAI^PBL  BGI^BHII^I^ 

Capt  Bonehill  is  in  the  very  front  rank  as  an  author  of  boys* 
stories.     These  are  two  of  his  best  works. 

Heka,  the  Boy  Conjurer  Tour  of  tt  9  Zero  Club 


^WAI^TBR   F.  BRUITS. 

An  excellent  story  of  adventure  in  the  celebrated  Sunk  Lands  of 
Missouri  and  Kansa& 

In  the  Sunk  Ijands 

^ ■ —  ■  -      ■■* 

FRABJPK  B[.  CONTERSE. 

This  writer  has  established  a  splendid  reputation  as  a  boys'  author, 
and  although  his  books  usually  command  $1.25  per  volume,  we  offer 
the  following  at  a  more  popular  price. 

Gold  of  Plat  Top  Mountain  In  Southern  Seas 

Happy-Go-Lucky  Jack  Mystery  of  a  Diamond 

Heir  to  a  Million  That  Treasure 

In  Search  of  An  Unknown  Bace  Voyage  to  the  Gold  Coast 

BAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(ii) 


MARRY   COI^I^IXG^WOOO. 

One  of  England's  most  successful  writers  of  stories  for  bojs.  Hi» 
best  story  is 

Pirate  Island 

OHOROB  »•  COOMBR. 

Two  books  we  highly  recommend.  One  is  a  splendid  story  of  at'- 
venture  at  sea,  when  American  ships  were  in  every  port  in  the  world, 
and  the  other  tells  of  adventures  while  the  first  railway  in  the  Andea 
Mountains  was  being  built. 

Boys  in  the  Forecastle  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain 


VTII^I^IAIfl   DAI^TOIV. 

Three  stories  by  one  of  the  very  greatest  writers  for  boys.  The 
stories  deal  with  boys'  adventures  in  India,  China  and  Abyssinia. 
These  books  are  strongly  recommended  for  boys'  reading,  as  they  con- 
tain a  large  amount  of  historical  information. 

Tiger  Prince  "War  Tiger 

"White  Elephant 

HD12VARI>  S.  BI.I.IS* 

These  books  are  considered  the  best  works  this  well-known  writer 
ever  produced.     No  better  reading  for  bright  young  Americans. 

Arthur  Helmuth  Perils  of  the  Jungle 

Check  "No.  2134  On  the  Trail  of  Geronimo 

rrom  Tent  to  "WTiite  House  "White  Mustang 


GBOROB  MA]^VII-I^B  FBNN:. 

For  the  past  fifty  years  Mr.  Fenn  has  been  writing  books  for  boys 
and  popular  fiction.  His  books  are  justly  popular  throughout  the 
English-speaking  world.  We  publish  the  following  select  list  of  his 
boys'  books,  which  we  consider  the  best  he  ever  wrote. 

Commodore  Junk  Golden  Magnet 

Dingo  Boys  Grand  Chaco 

Weathercock 

■^  '         ■    -         -  I.I  II  _  I  ...     ..^-^_ 

B]VSIGB(  CI^ARKB  FIXCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and  tho- 
roughly familiar  with  all  naval  matters.  Mr.  ititch  has  devoted  him- 
self to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of  books  for  boys  that  every 

DAVII>  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(iii) 


Tonng  American  should  read.    His  stories  are  full  of  very  interesting 
information  about  the  nary,  training  ships,  etc. 

Bound  for  Annapolis  Cruise  of  the  Training  Ship 

Clif,  the  Waval  Cadet  From  Port  to  Port 

Strange  Cruise,  A 

^^*^^"^'~™^  »—■  .1  ■  I— I.I  —  —  ■-  .  ,1  ■  _  I.I        ■■II  ■■■■■■         ^  ^mm^m^mm^—^m^^ 

ymOLT^ULlXl    mURRAY  ORAYDOX. 

An  author  of  world-wide  popularity.  Mr.  Graydon  is  essentially  a 
friend  of  young  people,  and  we  offer  herewith  ten  of  his  best  works, 
wherein  he  relates  a  great  diversity  of  interesting  adventures  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  combined  with  accurate  historical  data. 

Butcher  of  Ca^Kmpore,  The  In  Barracks  and  "Wigwam 

Camp  in  the  Snow,  The  In  Fort  and  Prison 

Campaigning  with  Braddock  Jungles  and  Traitors 

Cryptogram,  The  Bajah's  Fortress,  The 

From  Lake  to  "Wilderness  "White  Eling  of  Africa,  The 

I^IHUX.  FRBDHRICK  OARRISOPiT,  17.  S.  A* 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of  West 
Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject  could  be  found 
than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes  the  life,  adventures  and 
tmique  incidents  that  have  occurred  in  that  great  institution — in  these 
famous  West  Point  stories. 

Off  for  "West  Point  On  Guard 

Cadet's  Honor,  A  "West  1  oint  Treastire,  The 

"West  Feint  Bivals,  The 

«—- ^1    I  ■  ■  ■  ■  .^    .     I        I  ■  —  ■     ■    I  ■  - 1  II  ■  ■  ^.  ■  I  I—  ■■    I  ^  ^         —  —    ,        .  ■  I—  ■  ,        i_       .    -  _■ 

The  hunt  for  gold  has  always  been  a  popular  subject  for  considera- 
tion, and  Mr.  Hill  has  added  a  splendid  story  on  the  subject  in  this 
romance  of  the  Klondyke. 

Spectre  Gold 

RBXRY  HARRISON  I^K^WIS. 

Mr.  Lewis  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys.  Among  his  best  works  are 
the  following  titles — the  subjects  include  a  vast  series  of  adventures 
in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  historical  data  is  correct,  and  they 
should  be  read  by  all  boys,  for  the  excellent  information  they  contain. 

Centreboard  Jim  Ensign  Merrill 

King  of  the  Island  Sword  and  Pen 

Midshipman  Merrill  "Valley  of  Mystery,  The 

"Tankee  Boys  in  Japan 

DAVTD   McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(iv) 


A  series  of  books  embracing  many  adventures  under  our  famous 
tfaval  commanders,  and  with  our  army  during  the  War  of  1812  and 
the  Civil  War.  Founded  on  sound  history,  these  books  are  written 
for  boys,  with  the  idea  of  combining  pleasure  with  profit ;  to  cntivate 
a  fondness  for  study — especiiJly  of  what  has  been  accomplished  hj 
our  army  and  navy. 

Oadet  Kit  Carey  Bandy,  the  Pilot 

Captain  Carey  Tom  Truxton*s  School  Days 

Kit  Carey's  Protege  Tom  Truxton's  Ocean  Trip 

I«ieut.  Carey's  Luck  Treasure  of  the  Golden  Crater 

Out  "With  Commodore  Deo«lux>  Won  at  West  Point 


BROOKS  lUcCORMICK. 

Four  splendid  books  of  adventure  on  sea  and  land,  by  this  well- 
kncwn  writer  for  boys. 

Giant  Islanders,  The  Nature's  Foung  19'obleman 

How  He  Won  Bival  Battalions 


^WAI^XHR  MORRIS. 

This  charming  story  contains  thirty-two  chapters  of  just  the  sort  of 
school  life  that  charms  the  boy  readers. 

Bob  Porter  »t  Liakevie'w  Academy 


STAP^I^HY  XORRIS. 

Mr.  Norris  is  without  a  rival  as  a  writer  of  "Circus  Stories"  foF 
fcoys.  These  four  books  are  full  of  thrilling  adventures,  but  good, 
wholsome  reading  for  young  Americans. 

Phil,  the  Show^man  Young  Showman's  Pluck,  The 

Toong  Showman's  Bivals,  The       Toung  Showman's  Triumph 


UEUT.  JAMBS  K.  ORTOK. 

When  a  boy  has  read  one  of  Lieut.  Orton's  books,  it  requires  no 
urging  to  induce  him  to  read  the  others.  Not  a  dull  page  in  any  of 
them. 

Beach  Boy  Joe  Secret  Chart,  The 

Last  Chance  Mine  ^0°^  Havens  with  the  WTiit* 

Squadron 

DAVID  McKAY,  Publislier,  Philadelphia. 

(v) 


JAMBS  OXIS. 

Mr.  Otis  is  known  by  nearly  every  American  boy,  and  needs  no  in- 
troduction here.     The  following  copyrights  are  among  hia  best : 

Chased  Through  Norway  Unprovoked  Mutinj 

Inland  "Waterways  Wheeling  for  Fortune 

Beuben  Green's  Adventures  at  Tale 


OII^BHRX  PATXE^. 

Mr.  Patten  has  had  the  distinction  of  having  his  books  adopted  by 
the  U.  S.  Government  for  all  naval  libraries  on  board  our  war  ships. 
While  aiming  to  avoid  the  extravagant  and  sensational,  the  stories 
contain  enough  thrilling  incidents  to  please  the  lad  who  loves  action 
and  adventure.  In  the  Rockspur  stories  the  description  of  their  Base- 
ball and  Football  Games  and  other  contests  with  rival  ',lubs  and  teams 
make  very  exciting  and  absorbing  reading  *,  and  few  boys  with  warm 
blood  in  their  veins,  having  once  begun  the  perusal  of  one  of  these 
books,  will  willingly  lay  it  down  till  it  is  finished. 

Boy  Boomers  Jud  and  Joe 

Boy  Cattle  King  Bockspur  Nine,  The 

Boy  from  the  West  Bockspur  Eleven,  The 

Bon  Kirke's  Mine  Bockspxir  Bivals,  The 


sx*  OBOROB  raxhbor:nb« 

Mr.  Rathbome's  stories  for  boys  have  the  peculiar  charm  of 
dealing  with  localities  and  conditions  with  which  he  is  thoroughly 
familiar.  The  scenes  of  these  excellent  stories  are  along  the  Florida 
coast  and  on  the  western  prairies. 

Canoe  and  Camp  Fire  Chums  of  the  Frairie 

Paddling  Under  Palmettos  Toung  Bange  Biders 

Bival  Canoe  Boys  Gulf  Cruisers 

Sunset  Banch  Shifting  "Winds 


ARXBLUR  SB^V^BI.1.. 

An  American  story  by  an  American  author.  It  relates  how  ft 
Yankee  boy  overcame  many  obstacles  in  school  and  out.  Thoroughly 
interesting  from  start  to  finish. 

Gay  Dashleigh's  Academy  Days 


I>AVII>  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

Cvi) 


CAI»T.  I>AVII>  SOUXH^WICK. 

An  exceptionally  good  story  of  frontier  life  among  the  Indians  in 
the  far  West,  during  the  early  settlement  period. 

Jack  "Wheeler 

The  Famous  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

BURT  1^  SXANOISH. 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has  met  with  any- 
thing like  the  cordial  reception  and  popularity  accorded  to  the  Frank 
Merriwell  Stories.  There  oust  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is. 
Frank  Merriwell,  as  portr  .  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly  whole-souled, 
honest,  courageous  Amerio-v  nd,  who  appeals  to  the  hearts  of  the 
boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and  his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea 
that  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero. 
Frank  Merriwell' s  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious  lad 
to  follow.     Twenty  volumes  now  ready  : 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days     Prank  Merriwell's  Covirage 
Prank  Merriwell's  Chums  Prank  Merriweirs  Daring 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  "West        Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 
Frank  Merriwell  Down  South       Frank  MerrlweU's  Beturn  to  Yale 
Prank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell's  Baoes  Frank  Merriwell's  Iioyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Prank  Merriwell's  Beward 
Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Prank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Prank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Prank  Merriwell's  Viotories 


VICXOR.  ST.  CI.AIR. 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to 
please  the  full-blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to 
which  there  can  be  any  objection  from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the 
kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 
Coat  Away  in  the  Jungle  From  Switch  to  Lever 

Comrades  Under  Castro  Little  Snap,  the  Post  Boy 

For  Home  and  Honor  Zig-Zag,  the  Boy  Conjurer 

Zip,  the  Acrobat 


MATTHEU^  IJITHITE,  JR. 

Good,  healthy,  strong  books  for  the  American  lad.     No  more  in- 
teresting books  for  the  young  appear  on  our  lists. 

Adventures  of  a  Young  Atlilete  My  Mysteriotis  Portxin© 

Eric  Dane  Tour  of  a  Private  Car 

Guy  Hammersley  Young  Editor,  Tha 


DAVED  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia, 

(vii) 


ARTHUR  M.  VTEKFIBLrD* 

One  of  the  most  popular  authors  of  bojs'  books.  Here  are  three 
of  hb  beet. 

Ifark  Dale's  Stage  Venture  Toung  Bank  Cleric,  The 

Young  Bridge  Tender,  The 

J  . — , —  —~ 

OAinLB  l^IXXBRXON. 

This  verj  interesting  story  relates  the  trials  and  triumphs  of  a 
Young  American  Actor,  including  the  solution  of  a  verj  puzzling 
mjsterf, 

IToung  Actor.  A'-ae 


HRXHSX  A.  ITOUXG. 

This  book  is  not  a  treatise  on  sports,  as  the  title  would  indicate,  bat 
cdates  a  series  of  thrilling  adventures  among  boy  campeiB  in  the 
Hoods  of  Maine. 

Boats,  Bats  and  Bioycles 


n/LYU^  McKAT,  Publisher*  Philadelpliia. 


\ 


:vi':-    :;';,-ii':;r:-'r 


;  i;. '.;: 


